


Something Broken About This

by Hero_Thief



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Bulimia, Intrusive Thoughts, Jedi Order Treated With Nuance, Not Qui-Gon friendly, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Recovery, Recovery, Self-Harm, Therapy, Trans Male Character, Trans Obi-Wan Kenobi, Trichotillomania, Unwanted Pregnancy, past CSA, pocd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:16:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hero_Thief/pseuds/Hero_Thief
Summary: After years of silently enduring abuse at the hands of his Master, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan fears that he'll be unable to halt the chain of abuse.Obi-Wan had never been able to speak up to save himself, but if it means protecting his Padawan, then Obi-Wan will do whatever it takes. Even if that means asking for help.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi (Past)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 355
Collections: Star Wars Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like therapy bc 75% of this fic is therapy. And while his discussions with his mindhealer can get pretty graphic there are no onscreen depictions of abuse or flashbacks.
> 
> Before we begin I'd like to thank the gang over on the SubObi server, without you guys I never would have written more than the first half of the first chapter. You guys helped me outline this whole AU and encouraged me the whole way! Special shoutout to Jellyjog for helping me through so much of it!!
> 
> I'd also like to thank everyone from the SWBB server for being such an amazing community and really helping and encouraging me to write. This is by FAR the longest, most complex thing I've ever written and I owe so much to you guys.
> 
> An extra special thank you to my Beta, [kj_feybarn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kj_feybarn), it took us a while to get going but when we did _holy shit_ you made this fic so good. This would be a much less polished and refined fic without your very thorough help, I can't thank you enough.
> 
> And lastly, I'd like to thank my artist, [minnabird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minnabird), who was a really last minute pinch hitter but did and AMAZING job. I love the pictures so much ;_; (they'll be in chapters 5 and 10).

Bant catches Obi-Wan as he’s leaving a healer’s office. She knows him well enough to know he'd never go see a healer of his own free will, not if it wasn't dire, and she knows it’s not time for his yearly checkup. Come to think of it, she’s noticed that he’s seemed a bit out of sorts recently...

"What brings you here, Obi-Wan?” Bant asks. “It's not for anything serious I hope.” 

Obi-Wan does his best impression of casual innocence, but Bant knows him far too well for it to work. “Serious? Oh no, it's just a check up, nothing to worry about.”

Bant gives him an unimpressed look, crossing her arms. “Oh?”

“It's nothing.” Obi-Wan has the decency to look abashed as he tells the truth. “Just some stomach problems, like I had as a padawan, nothing to worry about, really."

Bant remembers Obi-Wan’s stomach problems. He had barely any appetite at all and when he did eat he couldn't keep any of it down. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. Obi-Wan’s early Padawan years were spent as a nervous wreck. She doesn’t think he got a lot of sleep, if any at all, instead running off pure anxiety.

It suddenly hits Bant like a ton of bricks, her friend had struggled with these things for years as a teen without any help at all. And now it’s back. Or rather, it had probably never really left, not entirely, not if he never got help. If she knew Obi-Wan, and she does, he’d probably just got better at faking it. But now something must have made it worse to the point that he _can’t_ fake it anymore. Qui-Gon’s death probably had a lot to do with it. Not to mention Obi-Wan had a padawan of his own to take care of now. That kind of stress was a lot to handle even on its own.

“What did the healer say?” Bant asks, hoping that her friend is finally getting the help he needs.

At that, Obi-Wan’s expression turns dark. “Not much. He doesn’t think anything is wrong with me.”

“What?” Bant exclaims. “He didn’t give you anything? At all?”

“He thinks it’s all in my head, told me to go visit a mind healer.” Obi-Wan rolls his eyes, but she can see that the healer’s response has him at a loss. Clearly things are worse than he’s admitting, and she’d already assumed it was bad, since he’d come to see a healer at all, but he looks like he’d desperately wanted some sort of answer.

Bant wants to roll her eyes too, but for a very different reason. “Maybe you should, it couldn’t hurt. You must be under a lot of stress lately.”

Obi-Wan scowls at her. “Oh, don’t you start too.”

Bant doesn’t let it stop her, she’s not going to just drop this, not when Obi-Wan is so clearly hurting. “I’m serious! I’m not a youngling anymore. I know that what was going on with you before was more serious than we realized. I actually can’t believe an adult didn’t step in and _do_ something about it.”

Obi-Wan visibly _flinches_ at that. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says curtly. “This isn’t that serious, it wasn’t then, and it isn’t now. If the healer doesn't think there’s anything that needs fixing, then it will just get better on its own, like it did before.”

“It sure doesn't sound like it got better!” Bant tries to keep her voice down, but she hates how little Obi-Wan cares about his own well-being. “And the healer does think there’s something that needs fixing, if the stress is getting to you like this then you need to go see a professional about it.”

"It's not stress!" Obi-Wan insists, but his composure is cracking. "It’s just- it's none of your concern."

Bant really wants to knock some sense into her stubborn friend. "Please Obi," she begs. "If not for yourself, then for your padawan. You can't be at your best to train and care for him if you don't care for yourself. Maybe you got through this far without doing so, but you're not just looking after yourself now."

Obi-Wan's face crumbles as he realizes she's right and he starts trembling. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out but short gasps as if he's finding it's suddenly much harder to breathe.

"Easy, easy," Bant soothes, dragging Obi-Wan into a nearby alcove and putting her hands on his shoulders comfortingly. "I'm going to get you an emergency appointment right now. Okay? So just breathe."

"I-I don't want to talk about it, please- _please_ don't make me," Obi-Wan pleads, shaking his head.

"Just keep breathing, Obi. In and out, in and out," she says calmly, keeping time and trying to get his breathing back to normal. After a few minutes, Obi-Wan's breathing calms down and he slumps against the wall, breathing shakily. Bant fishes out her comm and texts a message to Healer Jiorra, asking if she's free for an emergency counseling session. She looks up to see Obi-Wan staring at her comm like he's just been betrayed. 

"You're going to meet with the healer today, _especially_ after this episode," Bant says firmly. Obi-Wan just stares at her, devastated. "Or, do you want to tell me about it?"

"I can't," Obi-Wan insists. "I-I'm going to be kicked out of the order."

Bants eyes widen in shock, where was _that_ coming from? "No! Of course you won't, I won't let them."

"What if- what if I hurt Anakin?" Obi-Wan whispers.

"Hurt him? How?" Bants asks, figuring Obi-Wan might just be anxious over not being a good enough master, or hurting Anakin through neglect, or not knowing what was best, or any of the other million mundane possibilities that terrify every new master.

Obi-Wan's arms wrap around himself. "I haven't! But- but I have such _thoughts-_! And I, I don't want to hurt him, but they won't go away. What if I- what if I act them out? _What if I lose control over myself_?"

"What… what kind of thoughts?" Bant asks, because this wasn’t anything like she expected, and she’s suddenly terrified of the answer.

"Please, you have to understand, I don't want these thoughts, I don't want to do them, but I can't stop them from happening.” Obi-Wan rambles, sounding half mad. “I can hardly be in the same room as him anymore, the thoughts are always there and I can't trust myself. I don't want to turn into Qui-Gon, I don't want to be like him, I'm not like him, please, please, _you have to believe me_."

"W-what?" Bant asks. "Obi, what are you talking about?"

"I don't want to be like Qui-Gon, I don't! But he made me like him.” Obi-Wan lets out a shuddering sob. “I didn't want this, I just wanted to be a knight! I don't want to hurt Anakin, I'd rather die! _Please_ Bant, I don't know what to do."

It’s probably the single most terrifying thing Obi-Wan has ever told her. Her hopes of this being something mundane have been dashed to pieces. She can’t imagine what caused this, she doesn’t _want_ to. But Obi-Wan is _hurting_. She has to know. She has to _help._

"What did Qui-Gon… do to you?" Bant finally asks.

Obi-Wan’s breath hitches and he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. His eyes dart to hers for a moment and then away. He takes a deep breath, still unable to meet her eyes. "He… he raped me." Obi-Wan confesses and then, as though the confession is too much, he curls in on himself, shielding himself from her eyes, and begins to sob.

Bant is almost sure she misheard him. She wants so badly to have misheard him. She can only stare at him, speechless. Qui-Gon had his problems, everyone knew that, but this? It was beyond the pale. Unthinkable. She’s still grasping for what to say, what to ask, _how to comfort her friend,_ when the comm still in her hand buzzes. Healer Jiorra has messaged back that she's free right now. Bant looks back at her sobbing friend and knows she has to get him into that appointment immediately.

She takes a deep breath and steels herself. "You need to talk to the mind healer about this. Right now." Obi-Wan looks like he's going to protest but she cuts him off. "I won't let them kick you out of the order, I'll even stay with you through the meeting if you need me. But you're going, right now."

Obi-Wan nods in understanding but he doesn’t look any less devastated. Bant puts an arm around his shoulder as comfortingly as she can and leads him to the mind healer's office.


	2. Chapter 2

They’re both sitting on a couch across from Healer Jiorra. Bant keeps an arm wrapped around her friend but Obi-Wan doesn't look any better than he did out in the hallway. He’s shaking and breathing hard and not looking anyone in the eye.

“Hello Knight Kenobi,” Healer Jiorra begins. “I’m Healer Jiorra. Bant asked me to help you in an emergency appointment. Are you ok with her being present?” Obi-Wan just nods his head shakily. “Can you tell me what’s brought you here today?”

“I-I-m-” he starts but his jaw seems to lock up and he curls in on himself. “I- I’m going to… _hurt_ my padawan.”

Bant can only rub his back as comfortingly as she can, not wanting to interrupt and knowing she has to let Obi-Wan tell the healer, she can’t explain it for him. But she desperately wishes she could.

Jiorra looks Obi-Wan over with a concerned look and picks up a flimsy-weight. She puts it on the low table between them. “Obi-Wan, can you focus on this? Describe to me everything you see about it.”

Obi-Wan looks as confused as he can in his panicked state but focuses his eyes on the flimsy-weight and shakily begins describing it. “It-It’s blue and, um, and-and it’s transparent.” He stops for a moment taking a shuddering breath. “There’s flowers in it?”

Jiorra’s voice maintains its even tone, though it’s no less compassionate for that. “Very good, can you pick it up and describe how it feels?”

Bant can feel Obi-Wan’s breathing slow as he has something to focus on; she doesn’t really know how to help someone with a panic attack but she’s mad at herself for not thinking of something so simple.

Obi-Wan hesitantly reaches out and lifts the flimsy-weight into his hands, feeling it all over. “Uh, heavy- it’s heavy. And cold. Smooth.”

“Very good, now can you describe the table? Start with what you see.”

And it goes on like that. After the table, Jiorra asks Obi-Wan to describe the carpet, then the couch, and then asks him to eat a mint and describe it.

“But don’t use the word mint,” she instructs.

“But- it just tastes like mint!” Obi-Wan insists, and there’s a hint of exasperation there that sounds like the Obi-Wan she knows. He’s breathing normally again, Bant thinks, he’s much calmer, no longer stuck in his head. “Uh, it’s cold? Sharp? Burns? I hate this flavor,” Obi-Wan admits sullenly.

“Then you can spit it out,” Jiorra tells him and hands him a waste basket. “I think you’ve calmed down enough to tell me what brought you here.”

He takes the basket and spits the mint out into it before setting it down. He takes in a shaky breath and looks over to Bant, meeting her eyes beseechingly, a silent request for help.

“It’s going to be okay, you’re not going to be kicked out,” Bant tries to reassure him. She thinks it works because Obi-Wan appears to steel himself.

And then he blurts out desperately, like he’s ripping off a bandaid. “My master raped me, from the night he took me as his padawan right up until the Naboo mission. He raped his other padawan, Xanatos, who also raped me before he sold me into slavery. And now I can’t stop thinking about _my_ padawan.” His voice grows higher and higher with every word, like he's afraid that if he stops to breathe he won't be able to start again. “I don’t want to hurt him, but Qui-Gon made Xanatos a pedophile and he’s made me into one and I don’t want to be kicked out of the order, please. I let Qui-Gon fuck me because I wanted to be a knight, I won’t hurt anyone, _I promise_ , but I don’t know what to do and I’m _so scared_.” Obi-Wan collapses in on himself as he finishes, like those confessions have stolen everything from him.

Jiorra looks floored for just a moment before she composes herself. “Who is your padawan?”

“A-Anakin Skywalker,” Obi-Wan says between gasps as he tries to steady his breath.

“And you haven’t touched him sexually?” She asks.

“No!” Obi-Wan confirms, shaking his head vehemently, and Bant thinks Jiorra is just as relieved by Obi-Wan’s clear disgust for the idea as Bant herself is.

“I have to ask,” Jiorra says apologetically. “But you have sexual thoughts when you’re around him? Can you tell me about them?”

“I-I can’t get too close to him, or touch him or I start thinking about-” Obi-Wan cuts off. He takes a moment and Bant can only keep rubbing his back and hope she’s comforting him. “I start… thinking about doing things to him that Q-Qui-Gon did to me. And how _easy_ it would be and I- I leave the room, I get away from him so they’ll stop.”

“Are you both living together in the same quarters?” she asks.

Obi-Wan nods and Bant is hit with sickening horror as she comes to a realization. “Those are still the same quarters you shared with Qui-Gon.” She hadn’t thought anything of it before, and why would she have? But Obi-Wan’s stuck in the same quarters where Qui-Gon had… she has to stop thinking about it. Can’t let herself get lost in the horror of what happened to Obi-Wan _then,_ when he needs her to be focused on _now_.

Jiorra again looks like she’s struggling to keep her composure, but she’s quick to collect herself. “So, the first thing that needs to happen is that we need to get you into a new apartment. Ideally alone and without Anakin.”

Obi-Wan bows his head, and Bant’s not sure if it’s relief or shame that causes the movement. “Is he going to be reassigned?”

“I don’t know,” Jiorra admits. “This is confidential so I won’t be telling the council as long as I think you’re not going to hurt yourself or anyone else. But I do think you and Anakin should be separated for a while.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone?” Obi-Wan asks in disbelief.

“There is such a thing as healer-patient confidentiality, and as long as I believe you are not a danger to yourself or others I cannot and will not break that.”

“You don’t think I’m going to hurt Anakin?” Obi-Wan sounds both relieved and confused. “Then why are we being seperated?”

“Because it’s causing _you_ stress and will likely make things worse, even if you don’t ever act on your intrusive thoughts.” Jiorra explains.

“Intrusive thoughts?” Obi-Wan repeats, and he sounds exasperated.

“It’s early, but it sounds like you don’t want these thoughts and they distress you. You might not be a pedofile; there is actually a name for disorders like this. Pedophile-OCD or just POCD.”

“ _OCD_??” Obi-Wan asks incredulously.

“One that focuses on the obsession side that doesn't necessarily have a follow up compulsion. These are thoughts you can’t get rid of that distress you greatly, we’ll have to talk more to be sure, but I think I'm comfortable prescribing you an anti-anxiety today to see if that starts helping.”

“What-what if it’s not? What if I am a- a pedophile?” Obi-Wan’s voice cracks a bit, he’s not crying but he looks so terrified, breathing harshly and on the verge of a new bout of tears.

“I think you should be on anti-anxiety meds regardless. But if you are, we can deal with that and make sure you don’t hurt anyone without kicking you out of the order,” Jiorra assures him.

Obi-Wan finally breaks and starts crying into his hands. Bant thinks it might be from relief and she wraps her arms around him and holds him through his shaking sobs.


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the session passes and Obi-Wan feels too numb and exhausted to keep up with what Healer Jiorra is saying, but Bant starts helping out, talking with her as they decide what to do next. Obi-Wan can’t help but feel pathetically grateful for it. It’s decided that Obi-Wan will stay the night with Bant in her apartment, and for however long it takes to get Obi-Wan new quarters. Jiorra will make a call to the initiate’s dorms and get Anakin a temporary room.

Obi-Wan would feel like such a failure right now if he wasn’t so tired.

Obi-Wan doesn’t remember leaving the Healer’s office, or getting his new prescription filled, other than some vague feeling that he did. And then he is walking with Bant back to his apartment. It’s empty since Anakin is in class and Obi-Wan is guiltily relieved that he won’t have to see him right now.

He unlocks the door to his apartment and enters as Bant follows him in. She looks around and tries to hide her sad expression. She’s been here before, but knowing what’s happened here must make it feel different. It just feels the same to Obi-Wan.

“I’ll just pack my things then,” Obi-Wan says, leaving her in the living room as he goes into his bedroom.

He heads immediately to the closet, grabs his overnight bag and begins packing the essentials. He does his best to absorb his whole self into it, to focus on this and not on everything that he’s just admitted to, or the uncertainty of what the future might hold. That focus lasts him until he turns away from his drawers and sees the bed. It’s perfectly made and immaculate as it’s the first thing he does when he wakes up.

He got new sheets. It was the first thing he’d done when he came back from Naboo without Qui-Gon. He went down to the quartermaster and requested a new set. The old set had been damaged, he’d claimed. They hadn’t been. He’d thrown them away immediately, before doing the same to his old sheets from the bed in the padawan’s room, so Anakin wouldn’t-

 _He has to get away._ He stumbles out into the living room. Bant is standing there awkwardly but he doesn’t notice her. He heads straight to the refresher, sure he is about to throw up, but he stands there, sick feeling persisting, as nothing comes up. He hasn’t eaten all day, he’s not even sure if he ate yesterday. He stands there shaking, hunched over the toilet, arm braced against the wall. His legs feel hollow and it’s only Bant coming in to hold him that keeps him upright.

“I just… have to get my toothbrush,” Obi-Wan mumbles, clenching his eyes shut for a long moment in shame; he doesn’t want Bant to see him this way, but he doesn’t want her to leave either.

“I’ll help you,” Bant says and she lets Obi-Wan lean on her as she guides him over to the sink. He grabs his toiletries from the medicine cabinet and she lets him use the counter to prop himself up. “I’ll get your shampoo and stuff, which is yours?”

“Uh, top shelf.” He says, feeling a little stronger again. “It’s just the one bottle.” After years of barely having hair, Obi-Wan, like most human padawans, just uses a simple 3-in-1 soap for bathing.

Bant retrieves his overnight bag from where he left it in the living room in his haste to get to the fresher and puts the bottle inside. Obi-Wan manages to gingerly walk over to her and put the rest of his toiletries inside.

“Let’s get out of here.” Bant says and puts her arm around him again. He lets himself take comfort in the closeness as she leads him out.

* * *

“The couch is a pullout bed,” Bant informs him as he settles on the couch, his bag by his feet. “Do you want tea?”

“Yes please,” he says, resting his head against the back of the couch and closing his eyes.

“Have you had lunch yet?” she asks from the kitchen.

“I can’t, I’ll just throw it up,” Obi-Wan answers her. There’s no reason to lie, seeing as she already knows he’s having a hard time keeping anything down, and being honest now means he can avoid throwing up later.

He can hear her frown from here. “Hopefully the meds will help.”

All he can do is nod even though she can’t see it. He’s so tired. His eyes hurt from crying and his head is pounding and he still feels like he wants to throw up. He keeps his eyes closed, just to rest them for a while...

Some time later he is startled out of his misery by Bant bumping his leg gently. She hands him his tea. “You should take your meds now.”

Obi-Wan takes the tea but feels dread well up. He pulls out and uncaps the bottle, shaking a pill out. It’s hard to believe something so small can help him. Not when he’s this fucked up. Still, it goes down easy and he sits with Bant as they both drink their tea.

“I think I should meditate after this,” Obi-Wan says softly. “At least until Anakin gets out of class. I have no idea what I’m going to tell him.”

“You should just tell him that you’re sick and you’re going to be staying with me so I can look after you. It’s the truth, more or less.”

Obi-Wan hums noncommittally, it feels dishonest. He wants to warn Anakin to stay away from him, for Anakin’s own safety. After tea, Bant sets up an extra meditation mat by the window and meditates with him.

A few hours later, but not long enough in Obi-Wan’s opinion, he has to get up and meet Anakin from his classes. Bant goes with him of course and they meet Healer Jiorra outside the classroom.

Anakin has met Bant before and Obi-Wan thinks he likes her, but the boy looks at Jiorra with confusion. He still follows them without complaint as they begin to walk back to the apartment. Obi-Wan is still not sure what to say to him, but nothing horrible is creeping into his thoughts as he keeps an arm’s length between himself and Anakin, the others’ presence seems to help with that.

“Uh- Anakin,” Obi-Wan begins, trying to hide his stumble, trying to appear composed like a Jedi Knight should. “I haven’t been feeling well lately and I-” he pauses, takes a breath and wills his voice not to shake. “I will be staying with Bant for a few days while I recover.”

Anakin sidles up close to him and asks him quietly, like he’s trying to keep it from the others. “Is this because you’ve been throwing up?”

He feels mortified that Anakin has noticed that. But he’s sure it’s hard not to. It’s rather obvious. Anakin always has a cup of tea waiting for him afterwards. He feels like such an idiot for not putting it together. He nods his head.

“Since I can’t look after you and you can’t stay in the apartment alone, you’re going to be temporarily relocated to the initiates’ dorms,” Obi-Wan continues.

Anakin's trembling minutely, but he nods, and Obi-Wan knows he's trying to hide his fear. The guilt is back, this isn’t fair to Anakin, but nor is keeping Anakin with him, especially not while Obi-Wan’s mind whispers such terrible things while in Anakin’s presence. “Okay.”

They arrive at the apartment and Anakin steadily gathers up his things. Jiorra has the chance to introduce herself as Obi-Wan’s healer, but thankfully doesn’t mention what kind of healer she is. Bant has been mostly quiet but asks Anakin how his classes were. He's avoidant, giving mostly neutral answers and Obi-Wan knows that means things are going poorly, but as is becoming normal, he doesn't know how to help, how to fix things.

“Do you need help with your homework tonight?” Obi-Wan asks, realizing that if he’s going to be living separately from Anakin then there will be no one to help him with it.

“I can do it on my own,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan knows he's lying, but everything is already awkward and painful enough and he doesn't know what to say.

“I’ll help him,” Jiorra chimes in. At Obi-Wan’s surprised look she adds, “you shouldn’t have to worry about this in your state; it’ll help me help you if I can take that worry off your shoulders.”

Obi-Wan has no problem reading between the lines. She probably wants to verify that he hasn’t touched Anakin. It relieves Obi-Wan, a little, that Jiorra’s concern for Anakin’s well-being is a priority, and Obi-Wan nods in agreement.

The four of them walk Anakin down to the new room Jiorra helped acquire for him. It’s bare but it has the essentials. Obi-Wan feels another pang of guilt at leaving Anakin here alone. But that’s not completely true, at least Jiorra is staying behind while he flees like a coward. He says a stilted goodbye to Anakin who accepts it sullenly. He wants to hug his padawan, but knows what will happen if he gets too close.

“Remember our appointment tomorrow,” Jiorra says in lieu of a goodbye.

“I will,” Obi-Wan replies and all but flees the room.

* * *

Obi-Wan spends the time until dinner meditating. It doesn’t help. He can’t properly center himself and his thoughts keep swirling back to everything that’s happened today, before today he’d never spoken of what Qui-Gon had done to him to even a single soul. But in the course of a few hours he’d told two people, and it’s not over. Now that he’s revealed the truth it’ll be impossible to hide from, and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel about it. He comes out of his meditation with his headache at least slightly eased and a ravenous appetite.

Bant greets him as he slips out of his meditation stance and hands him a cup of tea. “Do you mind if Quin comes over for dinner tonight? He said he’d bring take-out.”

“That’s fine,” Obi-Wan agrees. He smiles at her, tired yet grateful, as he takes a sip of tea. Bant has always been one of his dearest friends, and he can’t help but think how lucky he is to have her. They sit and talk about nothing while they wait.

Quinlan arrives not too long later. He brings food as promised, but he seems more reserved than usual. They sit down to dinner and catch up, talking about safe topics. Quin keeps glancing at him, a small wrinkle in his brow, and the tentative look in his eyes betraying his concern.

Obi-Wan gives Bant a look, trying his best to convey, _what did you tell him?_ with his eyes alone _._

Bant shakes her head minutely. _I didn’t tell him anything_ , the gesture says. Then she looks away guiltily, and Obi-Wan can read the truth in the way she won’t meet his eyes. _Not much at least_ …

Obi-Wan sighs and goes back to eating, feeling less like talking than he did before. His headache is suddenly back full force, and the nausea follows quickly. He tries to keep eating, he really does. His other hand is squeezing his thumb in a fist in an effort to quell the nauseating feeling. He startles when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

Quin is looking at him, concern plain on his face. “Obi-Wan?"

He realizes he's stopped eating, just pushing the food around on his plate. Suddenly, Obi-Wan can’t bear to look Quin in the eyes. “ _Excuse me_.” He stands abruptly from the table and all but flees to the refresher. He closes the door firmly behind him and tries to compose himself in private but it’s no good. He lurches over to the toilet and empties the contents of his stomach into the bowl.

There’s a soft knock. “Obi-Wan?” Bant’s voice calls out.

“I need a moment,” Obi-Wan coughs from where he’s hunched over the toilet.

With his stomach empty he feels calmer. Once his coughing subsides he washes his mouth out in the sink. A few more deep breaths as he composes himself to face his friends again, and he’s as ready as he can be. When he opens the door, Bant is hovering nearby and Quin is standing at the table, looking unsure. Quin is never unsure, and Obi-Wan doesn’t know how to respond to that

“Sorry about that,” Obi-Wan apologizes.

“You should really talk to Jiorra about this tomorrow,” Bant whispers.

Obi-Wan just nods. Dinner has been cut short; Obi-Wan’s not about to chance eating again and the other two seem to have lost their appetites. They sit in the living room while Quin takes the initiative to lead the conversation back to safe topics. Bant gets up to make drinks; hers smells salty, like the ocean, Quin asks for something alcoholic, and Obi-Wan absently asks for tea.

Bant has made him chamomile. He stares at the cup, his mind going blank. Obi-Wan doesn’t notice the look the other two exchange.

“Is something wrong with the tea?” Bant asks hesitantly.

“...Qui-Gon used to make me chamomile after I would throw up,” Obi-Wan says softly.

“Oh,” is all Bant can manage.

“Do you want to switch drinks?” Quin offers lightly.

“No, thank you,” Obi-Wan declines. He stares down at the tea, feeling foolish for not being able to bring himself to take a sip. “I’m sorry I’m being so difficult,” he says to both of them.

“Don’t worry about it,” Quin says.

“You’re not!” Bant insists. “You don’t have to drink it if- you don’t have to drink it,” she repeats firmly.

Obi-Wan sets the tea down. He sighs and rubs his face miserably. He feels bad about wasting tea and Bant’s time, for making his friends worry about him. He looks up when Quin moves over closer to him and puts a hand comfortingly on his back.

“I know things must be hard right now, but we’re here for you, Obi. I’m temple bound for the foreseeable future, so you can always come talk to me,” Quinlan says.

It shouldn’t be a surprise, but somehow it still is, to realize that Quinlan means it. “T-thank you,” Obi-Wan says shakily.


	4. Chapter 4

Obi-Wan is dying. Or at least, that’s what Anakin has convinced himself of. Obi-Wan has a healer who is walking around the temple with him, that _has_ to be bad. Anakin has to be in a whole separate part of the temple from Obi-Wan! But Anakin is good at keeping his cool in the face of major changes. This is no different. He accepted Healer Jiorra’s earlier offer to help him with his homework because he’s hoping to get more information out of her. And also because he really needs help, not that he’ll admit it.

The healer helps him put his things away in the new dorm before asking which homework he needs help with.

“Um, just my reading stuff. I have a _lot_ to catch up on,” Anakin says.

“I’d love to help you with that, what unit are you on?” The healer asks as she pulls up a chair to the desk.

Anakin gets the datapad for the class and settles at the desk. “It’s this one.” She takes too long to look over the datapad and Anakin feels his face flush hot with shame.

“What was your schooling like before you came to the temple?”

“My mom taught me, she was really smart, it’s just- she mostly taught me Huttese, because that was more common, I’m not used to reading Basic,” Anakin defends himself. If he hadn’t been sure before he knows now that this holotext is for babies.

“That’s perfectly fine,” Healer Jiorra says quickly. “You’ll catch up in no time, I’ll help you.”

They sit for half an hour as Jiorra goes over the assignment with him, listening to him read out loud and helping him pronounce unfamiliar words. Which is most of them. He does his best not to fidget, but it’s pretty unbearable by the end of the holotext.

“Why don’t we take a break?” She suggests.

Anakin sighs with relief and slumps into his chair.

“What’s your favorite subject so far, Anakin?” She asks, also leaning back more comfortably in her chair.

“I guess navigation? But they won’t let us actually pilot anything. We haven't even been allowed in simulations yet!” He pouts.

“Do you want to be a pilot?”

“Yes! I was the _best_ podracer back home, I won the Boonta Eve Classic!” He proudly boasts.

“I don’t know anything about podracing, can you tell me about it?” She asks and she actually looks like she’s interested. Anakin spends the next 20 minutes regaling her the tale of how he won the race and his freedom and how Qui-Gon helped him. He doesn’t notice her face tightening up at the mention of Qui-Gon but he does notice the look she has when he explains that he was a slave. He probably shouldn’t have mentioned that…

Jiorra cuts him off after he starts rambling about different pod types and their advantages. “How about we finish this assignment first and then you can tell me all about it?”

“Yeah, ok…” he says. He doesn’t really want to, but he knows how Master Obi-Wan gets short with him when he rambles.

The assignment seems to get done in record time with Jiorra explaining what the questions mean and helping him. She even holds to her promise and lets Anakin gush to her after. His next subject is mathematics, which he knows but she helps him read the questions and praises how smart he is. It goes on like this and before he knows it all his homework is done.

“Well done, Anakin,” she says. “Now, do you think you can help me with something?”

“Of course!”

“So, there’s this form that Obi-Wan was supposed to fill out after he became a knight but he hasn’t gotten around to it yet. You’re pretty close to him, right? Do you think you could help me out with it? It’s just asking how he’s been adjusting and if we can help him with anything. I don’t want to bother him with it now.”

Anakin tries not to visibly gulp but nods. This could go… bad if they think Obi-Wan’s not doing good. So Anakin has to make him sound like the best master ever! Which he is! Probably not as good as Qui-Gon though…

Jiorra pulls out her personal datapad and taps it a few times. “So, first question: has Obi-Wan talked about any problems he’s having?”

“Uhh, no, nothing.” Anakin says.

“Mm, okay,” she says, tapping again. “How has he been feeling lately? Can you tell through your training bond?”

“Um, I don’t know, I can’t feel anything,” Anakin admits. Was that something he should be able to do?

“Has he walked you through how to use the bond?”

“Kind of? I mean, he taught me how to meditate and that we have a ‘training bond’ or whatever, but… I’m not really sure what it’s for?”

Jiorra taps some more on her datapad. “Does he get frustrated when you don’t understand something?”

“No,” Anakin answers back immediately, probably too quickly because Jiorra gives him a look.

“It’s perfectly normal for someone who’s new to teaching to get a little frustrated when they’re not doing it right.” Anakin makes a noncommittal noise. “How frustrated does he get? Does he just groan and try again or does he ever yell?”

“No! He just- he usually just leaves and I have to figure it out on my own…” Anakin admits, unable to meet her eyes.

Jiorra makes a sad noise. “Well, I’m going to make sure you get the help you need. So since you can’t feel him through your bond, how would you guess Obi-Wan has been feeling while he’s been your ma- _entor_ , your mentor? Has he changed over time or has been been the same?”

“Um, uuuh… He’s been the same?”

“He doesn’t get frustrated more often? Or less?”

“No, he- um-” Anakin stops, his lip begins to quibble and he fights it. He can NOT let them think anything bad about Master Obi-Wan or they’ll send him back to Tatooine!

“It’s ok, Anakin. I’m not here to punish Obi-Wan, _or you_ , I’m just trying to see how he’s adjusting to suddenly being a knight with a padawan,” Jiorra tries to reassure him but Anakin doesn’t trust her.

“He’s fine, he’s the perfect master,” he insists.

She sighs and sets the datapad down and takes off her glasses. “Alright, if you say so.”

“Uh-huh!”

She smiles at him fondly. “I think we’re done for today. I’ll be back tomorrow to help you with your homework again. That is, if you’d like me to?”

“Uh, yeah, that’d be- yeah.” Anakin nods.

“Now, would you like to get dinner with me? It’s about that time,” Jiorra offers.

“Okay!” Anakin is starving, and his head kind of hurts from how hard he’s been concentrating on school work all day. He could really use food.

* * *

She doesn't take him down to the main cafeteria, instead they go further into the initiates wing and find a Crèchemaster in his classroom. They seem to know one another, greeting each other with a hug. She introduces him as Master Rune and asks if they can join him and Clan Hawkbat for dinner. And that’s how Anakin finds himself sitting down to dinner with Jiorra, Rune, and a bunch of kids he doesn't really know. Most of them _are_ in his classes but he doesn’t really talk to them.

He sits next to a kid from his Galactic Histories class. Jarri or something? Everyone keeps talking like they’re all friends and know each other so well and there’s nowhere for Anakin to come into the conversation. Everything’s so alien to him and he’s starting to regret joining Jiorra for dinner.

“Anakin,” Jiorra suddenly calls on him. “Can you help us settle an argument?”

“What about?” Anakin asks.

“You said you made droids? Do you know anything about the cleaning droids the temple uses?” She asks.

Anakin thinks of the several he’s dismantled and put back together. “Yeah?”

“Which do you think would stab more people in the ankles if it had a knife taped to it? The M5L2 or the new M5L3’s?”

“Oh well, the L3’s are pretty fast, they can zip around and stab a bunch of people real quick but they’re not very sturdy. One kick and they’re out. The L2’s are a bit slower, but not much, and they won’t get flipped over from a kick or two.” Anakin realizes the other kids are paying close attention to him and tries not to preen. “You could use either with some modifications, it’d be easy to speed up an L2 or program an L3 to avoid damage.”

“Could you modify some?” Jarri asks, just beside him.

“Of course I could!”

All the other kids start talking excitedly and Crèchemaster Rune tries futilely to settle them down. Jiorra meets his eyes and grins and Anakin grins back at her. After dinner Jiorra says goodbye and reminds him that she’ll meet him after classes tomorrow but Anakin is hardly paying attention. He’s been swept up into the fervor of kidnapping some mouse droids along with the other kids. He doesn’t notice Crèchemaster Rune’s exasperated expression as he sarcastically thanks Jiorra for her “help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have ref for Jiorra and Jarri! [It's on my Dreamwidth](https://herothief.dreamwidth.org/2162.html) because I'm still trying to make Dreamwidth happen -_-;  
> [Also crossposted to Tumblr...](https://hero-thief.tumblr.com/post/617152458869833728/here-are-my-ocs-for-my-fic-something-broken-about)


	5. Chapter 5

Obi-Wan wakes up the next morning on Bant’s couch. He’s actually able to stomach breakfast that morning, which is an accomplishment of its own. They meditate together for a bit before heading down to the Halls of Healing together. They seperate as Bant goes about her work and Obi-Wan goes to his second meeting with Healer Jiorra.

“So,” she begins. “I spoke with Anakin yesterday. He’s a bright boy but I have a few concerns.”

Obi-Wan feels the bottom of his stomach drop out.

“He’s very… defensive of you. So it’s hard to get an accurate reading on him when I ask about you. Until I can say for certain that you haven’t harmed him I need you to keep your distance from him. It may be hard without arousing suspicion but as long as I, or someone like Bant is around, I think you should be fine to talk to him. If I do find out you’ve had unsupervised contact with him I _will_ have to involve the council. Do you understand?”

That sounded like it was for the best. “Yes, I understand.”

“You stayed with Bant last night, how was that?”

“It was fine,” he shrugs. “She was a perfectly gracious host, even when I-” he cuts off and looks away from her, sighing.

“What did you do?”

“I threw up in the middle of dinner, made a huge scene.” He scrubs a hand through his hair frustratedly. “And then when Bant made me tea afterward I couldn’t- I couldn't even drink it because- because-” a hiccup cuts him off and he has to stop, covering his mouth with his hand, willing himself not to cry.

“It’s alright,” Jiorra soothes. “Take a few deep breaths, just like when you meditate; in one… two… three… out one… two… three…” She repeats a few times and Obi-Wan syncs his breathing up to hers. By the time she’s stopped he does feel calmer.

“I’m sorry about that,” He says, noticing that he’s unconsciously pulled his legs up and crossed them in a meditation pose.

“Do you often feel bad about showing emotion?” Jiorra asks.

“Uh- it’s- it’s unseemly for a Jedi to be so out of control like this.” Obi-Wan sighs.

“I don’t think you’re out of control, Obi-Wan. You’re having a very human response to some incredibly traumatic circumstances. You’re allowed to cut yourself a little slack.”

“But I couldn’t even drink _tea_. Just because it was the same kind that _he_ used to make me when I would… after I would throw up.” He deflates just a bit.

“How often do you usually throw up?” She asks.

“Well I… it’s been getting worse. It’s almost every day now. It used to be more manageable because I could _control_ it better,” he explains.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well I… I would make myself throw up,” Obi-Wan admits softly.

There’s a pause for what feels like just a hair too long and he glances back up at Jiorra as he bites his thumbnail. It’s a disgusting habit he thought he’d broken years ago. He can’t bring himself to stop doing it today.

“So how-” Jiorra begins.

“It wasn’t-” Obi-Wan starts to defend himself.

They stop. “What did you want to say?” Jiorra asks.

“I… It didn’t start off like that. I had some stomach problems at the beginning of my padawanship. I tried to hide it from Qui-Gon but it was impossible. I couldn’t _eat_ and then when I did, I couldn’t keep anything down… But when he noticed he…” Obi-Wan sighs. “He’d give me a break that night. He wouldn’t- I could sleep on my own.”

“He didn’t force you to have sex with him?” Jiorra asks and Obi-Wan cringes.

“Well, yes. So I… I started doing it on purpose, when he was around. He’d make me tea afterwards, and rub my back and-and-” his breath hitches. “He’d be so _nice_ , and sweet with me. Like a master should be, I always thought.” His eyes mist up and Obi-Wan scrubs them. “ _Force_ , it started… it started to grate on me eventually, he was so coddling sometimes. It was suffocating.”

“You started making yourself sick to get out of being abused. But now you’re throwing up involuntarily?”

“Yes. I had the same problem when I was younger, and now it’s back. That’s why I went to see a healer yesterday to see if there was something wrong with me.”

“Can you describe your symptoms a little more? You mentioned that you’re hardly eating?”

“Ah, yes. I feel so nauseated all day. I can't really bring myself to eat anything. But later in the day I’m usually so hungry I can manage it, but then it just comes right back up. That’s what happened last night…”

“I’m going to prescribe you some anti-nausea medication and we’ll see how that helps.”

Obi-Wan’s shoulders slump in relief. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” She grins at him. “So, why don’t you tell me about what happened last night? You seemed pretty upset by it, how did your friends react?”

“Oh. Um, they were very accommodating. I told you Bant made me tea. But I couldn’t even drink it.” He sighs in disgust at himself.

“Was she upset when you didn’t drink it?”

“No, she just said I didn’t have to drink it. But I had also just ruined dinner. Neither of them wanted to eat after I had thrown up and it’s my fault. I ruined a nice dinner. We should have had a lovely time last night but I _ruined_ it.”

“But your friends weren’t upset? What did they say about it?”

Obi-Wan sighs in frustration, “Bant’s too polite to say anything out loud and Quinlan… he… he offered to switch drinks with me. And he even… he even said that he’d ‘be _there_ for me.’”

“What’s the problem with that?”

“He doesn’t even know what happened! How could I possibly tell him?”

“You don’t have to tell him, there are all kinds of ways he could help you without having to know.”

“But I don’t want to _burden_ him like that, when he doesn't even know what he’s helping with.”

“You aren’t being a burden asking for help when you need it. And you _do_ need it.” She adds before he can object. “That’s why you’re here after all.”

Obi-Wan cedes defeat at that and nods.

* * *

After the session is done Obi-Wan picks up his new prescription and goes back to Bant’s apartment. It feels awkward to stay in her rooms without her there, he feels like an intruder. He has nothing to do, no assignments from the council, no padawan to teach…

It’s too depressing to stay closed away like this, and Obi-Wan desperately wants to _move_. This is how he finds himself in the gym, hours later, covered in sweat and mind cleared of his earlier anxieties as he loses himself in his katas. This is also how Quinlan stumbles upon him.

“Obi-Wan!” Quin greets him, Aayla Secura right behind him.

Obi-Wan straightens up from his kata and smiles warmly at his friend. “Quin!”

“Well, since you’re already here would you mind helping me get Aayla started learning a new form?” Quinlan asks, a hand clasped on his padawan’s shoulder. “I think a good, demonstrative spar would help a lot.”

“I think I could manage that.” Obi-Wan grins. “What form is it?”

“Only my favorite, Soresu.” Quin rolls his eyes.

“Oh? I’ve actually been meaning to focus more on it myself. Qui-Gon’s lack of defense is what got him killed, I wanted to work on my own.” Obi-Wan notices Quin’s face blanch a little for some reason- oh, it was probably because of how bluntly he talked about his master’s death. Right. He’s supposed to be upset about that. Oh well.

“Well then, we’d be happy for your help,” Quin says too quickly.

Obi-Wan and Quinlan move to the mat proper and Aayla stands on the sidelines observing. They bow to each other and begin their spar. It’s a friendly affair, and they call out certain things for Aayla to pay close attention to. When it ends they bring Aayla over and begin working on teaching her the new katas.

“What will I use this form for mostly?” Aayla asks.

“Well, uh, defense, mostly,” Quin answers. Obi-Wan gives him an unimpressed look. “Oh? Do you have a better explanation Mr. Know-It-All?”

“Anyone could explain it better than you,” Obi-Wan snarks back to Quin and then turns to Aayla. “Soresu is known as the Resilience Form for a reason. It’s good against an opponent when you’re trying to outlast them, and is the best form for defending against blasters. It’s all about having a tight defense and keeping your movements energy efficient.” Obi-Wan explains.

“It’s good against blasters? Isn’t that what we’re mostly going to face out in the galaxy anyway? Why doesn't everyone focus more on this form then?” Aayla asks.

“Well, it doesn't have any good offense, which is why you have to learn more aggressive forms. In fact, Ataru and Shien were developed side by side for just that reason.”

“You never told me any of this stuff.” Aaya shoots Quinlan an accusatory look.

“‘Cause it’s boring. And I’m pretty sure that’s the lightsaber instructors job anyway…”

Obi-Wan snorts and tries to hide it. Quinlan shoves his shoulder playfully. Aayla rolls her eyes so hard her head rolls with the motion. They somehow manage to get back on task, focusing on teaching again.

At the end of the lesson Quinlan lets Aayla go free and she bolts off. Obi-Wan and Quinlan make their way back to the living quarters section of the temple together.

“You were great with Aayla today,” Quin suddenly says.

Obi-Wan brushes him off. “Pfft, I don’t know about that. Better than you? Sure.”

“I’m serious! She really paid attention to you and I think she had a fun time learning from you.”

Obi-Wan just looks away, not sure how to feel about that.

“It’s been... Hard. I love Aayla, and I know I'm meant to teach her, and I’m so happy, I am! Don’t get me wrong. But… it’s a lot of responsibility. If I didn't have my master helping me, and my friends… it would feel impossible.”

“Quinlan-”

“Listen! Just listen. I know what it's like, taking on a padawan so soon after knighting. I know you must feel like you’re not ready. But you are. And you have help; me and Bant for starters! And there are others too, you’re not actually the friendless loser I joke about you being sometimes.”

“Thanks,” Obi-Wan says sarcastically.

“I mean it! You’re a wonderful teacher. You’re going to do great with Anakin, even if it doesn't feel like it. And I’ll help you out if you need it. You just have to ask.”

Obi-Wan can’t quite figure out what to say. Quinlan has been so uncharacteristically sincere with him lately that it’s thrown Obi-Wan off.

“What… what did Bant tell you about what’s been going on exactly?”

“She just said that you had a panic attack and were going to be staying with her for a while. I kind of... assumed it was about either Anakin, or Qui-Gon, or both.” Quinlan shrugs.

“You’re… right.” Obi-Wan admits.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Quin throws an arm over his shoulder, pulling them close together as they walk.

“I… I don’t know.”

“Why don’t we both get cleaned up first and then we can just hang out, and if you feel comfortable, you can talk to me, and if you don’t we can play a game or something. Hell! We can go out on the town if you want. Get your mind off things.”

“Thank you, let’s just… play it by ear, why don’t we?”

“Sounds good to me.”

* * *

Freshly showered, Obi-Wan and Quinlan decide to take a walk to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Obi-Wan is still uncomfortable staying in Bant’s apartment without her there. He also hopes that the peace and serenity of the gardens and pools will help his state of mind. And there are plenty of hidden nooks for a private conversation if Obi-Wan decides to tell Quin.

They do end up settling in an out of the way alcove. Quin regales him with tales of Aayla’s training and who’s been up to what. He finishes telling Obi-Wan about the last mission he was on and they sit in silence enjoying each other’s company for a while. _It’s now or never_ … Obi-Wan thinks.

“So I, um,” he begins haltingly. “I was prescribed some anti-nausea medication, so hopefully I won’t be- I won’t make another scene next time we have dinner.”

“That sounds good, I sure hope it helps. I remember you used to…” Quin trails off, motioning with his hand to finish the rest of the sentence. “Like, that was really bad. Do you know what was wrong with you? Is it the same thing?”

“Well, it was because of the anxiety, I guess, because Qui-Gon was-” _It’s now or never, it’s now or never…_ “Because he was raping me.”

There’s a moment of silence and Obi-Wan keeps his eyes down, head bowed, staring at his hands in his lap. He starts picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of his undertunic.

“...What?”

“Qui-Gon raped me. Please don’t make me say it again, Quin.”

“He _what_?” Quinlan’s voice shakes, like he’s furious and barely containing it. Obi-Wan pulls harder at the string. “He-he what? How could he?! For how long?”

“Since the night he decided to take me as his padawan.” The string finally breaks off and Obi-Wan digs a finger under his sleeve to scratch at his arm.

“You- you were twelve when he- when he took you as his padawan,” Quin says disbelievingly.

“I rather think that was part of the draw. Especially seeing as he tried to replace me with _a nine year old slave he bought_ -” Obi-Wan breaks off and takes a deep shuddering breath. He tucks his hands into the sleeves of his outer robe, hiding them so he can roll up his under tunic sleeve and pick the hairs off his forearm.

“That _**bastard.**_ ” Quin spits, “If he wasn’t dead I’d-”

“I’d have killed him. I would never have let him hurt someone else. I almost told the council right there in the room. But I- at least he’s dead. He got what was coming to him and that’s all that matters.”

They sit in silence again, this time it’s much more uncomfortable than the last one. Obi-Wan steadily plucks the hairs from his arm trying to soothe himself. He gets all that he can off one arm and then switches to the next.

“How did he get away with it for so long?” Quinlan asks.

Obi-Wan shrugs. “I didn’t tell anyone.”

“ _Why?_ ” He blurts out. “I mean- not like it’s your fault for not- but like-”

“Because no one else would train me!” Obi-Wan shouts and immediately regrets it. He looks around, hoping no one heard. He feels out with the Force but no one seems to be around and he relaxes slightly. “I made a deal with him. He would train me and I would-” he breaks off with a disgusted noise, unable to finish the sentence.

“That’s fucked up,” is all Quin can say.

“Yes, exactly,”

They sit in silence again and Obi-Wan plucks all the little hairs off his arm. Not that he had many left to begin with. He’s pretty sure he’s bleeding in a few places but that just means scabs he can pick at later. Those are more satisfying anyway.

“Do you want to take back your offer to let me talk to you about my problems now?” Obi-Wan asks.

“No, of course not! This is... Not what I was expecting but I’m not going to turn you away. I don’t know if I can help, seeing as he’s already dead, but I can sure as hell lend a sympathetic ear.”

Obi-Wan swallows hard. “Thank you.”

Quinlan scoots closer to him and wraps an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders before tugging him close for a full body hug. Obi-Wan considers it a success that he doesn't cry, but his eyes do get misty and his breath hitches a bit as he buries his face into his friend’s robes.

They sit together like that until dinner time. Which they have together with Bant in her apartment. Obi-Wan doesn’t throw up that night and goes to bed almost hopeful that maybe things will work out.

* * *

The next day happens much the same. Obi-Wan leaves the apartment with Bant and they split up once they get to the Halls of Healing. His conversation with Quin from last night is probably something they should talk about, right?

“I told my friend Quinlan last night. About Qui-Gon.” He tells Jiorra.

“Oh? How did that go?”

“It went fine? He was angry on my behalf. Didn’t take back his offer as a shoulder to cry on.”

“That’s great!”

“He asked why I let it go on so long,”

“What did you tell him? In our first session, you said you let Qui-Gon abuse you because you wanted to be a knight, is this what you meant?”

Obi-Wan wrings his hands. “Well, yes. I had tried so hard to convince him to train me, and after everything he admitted he couldn’t have another padawan because he couldn’t trust himself around one. But I kept insisting I could take _whatever_ it was he was afraid of and I still had no idea… And then he said that he’d agree to train me if I helped him with his ‘urges.’ Of course I agreed.” He shakes his head in disgust at himself. “And then he- on the transport home. He showed me what he wanted.”

“How did you handle that?”

“I don’t really remember it much.” Obi-Wan shrugs. “He- he kissed me a lot, rubbed my shoulders like he was trying to comfort me. But I don’t- I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t even remember most of it. Except that I was-” He takes a shuddering breath. “He said that I was too small and that we’d have to work on loosening me up in the future. But he didn’t- he didn’t fuck me proper.”

“This guy was a real piece of work,” Jiorra says. “I’m so sorry he put you through that.”

Obi-Wan takes a deep shuddering breath. “I made the choice.”

“But you didn’t. You were twelve, well below the age of consent and Qui-Gon was a grown man who should have known better. It was his job to protect you and instead he betrayed you. You did nothing wrong.”

“I did though! I could have just gone to the agricorps, but _no_ , I had to be a _knight_ ,” Obi-Wan says in disgust.

“You didn’t commit a crime, none of this was your fault. Qui-Gon bears sole responsibility for his actions.”

“But I-”

“But nothing. He was an adult who knew better and you were a child in his care. You could have thrown yourself at him and asked explicitly to have sex with him and it was still his responsibility to say _no_.”

Obi-Wan glares at her but drops it. He doesn't believe he’s completely blameless but he doesn't think he’ll get anywhere with her now. He’s sure that the more he opens up to her the more she’ll realize that too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> artwork by [minnabird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minnabird)!


	6. Chapter 6

Anakin has been enjoying his time with Healer Jiorra. He’s getting his homework done much quicker and it’s much more enjoyable. Even if he doesn’t want to learn about some boring stuff, she lets him tell her all about droids, and podracing, and his old friends, and whatever he wants to talk about. And she keeps bringing him along with her to Crèchemaster Rune’s clan. He didn’t realize that most of the other kids are actually in different classes with him, but now they keep coming to talk to him during breaks and working with him in groups and passing him notes he can barely read. He’s not so happy about that last part but one kid from a different clan tried to give him poodoo about it and all Anakin’s new friends told the other kid to knock it off.

But he’s still worrying about Obi-Wan. At first, Anakin thought he was dying but now he’s not so sure. Jiorra’s been asking odd questions about Obi-Wan, but he’s staying tight-lipped. He’s pretty sure they’re assessing if either he or Obi-Wan is doing badly. If they stop letting Obi-Wan train him then what will happen to him? He can’t go back to Tatooine, as much as he wants to see his mom again.

It’s during his third session with Jiorra that she asks a suspicious question. “Has Obi-Wan ever made you uncomfortable?”

“How?”

“Just, staring at you for too long? Or maybe touching you more than he should?”

“Oh, is that what you’re worried about? No, he’s not a kiddie diddler. I know the type, they used to come into the shop all the time. Some would try to buy me from Watto but I cost too much because I could work.”

Jiorra’s face transforms into the most hilarious expression of surprise Anakin’s seen in a long time. He has to laugh out loud.

“Well that’s… something,” Jiorra says, fiddling with her glasses.

“Why do you think he is?” Anakin asks.

“That’s… actually something I would like to talk to you both about together. After I’ve made sure he’s not a… you know. If you’re going to be a mentor and apprentice pair then I think you would both benefit from some shared therapy sessions.”

“Okay, but why do you think he is a kiddie diddler? I think I should know.”

“It’s _confidential_. But now I have a dilemma; if you know what I’m asking for you could either be telling me the truth or you could be lying. If Obi-Wan was using you for _that_ would you honestly tell me? I know you keep deflecting my questions about whether Obi-Wan is fit as a mentor or not. You’re trying to protect him. And I need you to be honest with me.”

“I don’t want to be kicked out! Nobody here wanted me but Qui-Gon and now he’s dead but Obi-Wan _promised_.”

“Oh, you two are just the same...” Jiorra says quietly and rubs her forehead. “If Obi-Wan is not a fit guardian you will not be kicked out. I promise you. As you have already been accepted into the order we can’t kick you out. We would simply find you a new mentor. I can show you where we have it written down, all official. Even if you have a hard time reading it you can ask someone else to help you with it and they’ll confirm what I just said.”

Anakin looks at her long and hard and decides he believes her. “Alright, but I do want to see it, wherever it’s written down. I want a copy.”

“Then we better head to the archives,” Jiorra says, gathering her things and ushering him out the door.

Anakin’s been to the archives before but Jiorra takes him to a new section.

“This is where we house all the official council rulings and stuff. Now lets see if I can find the right one...” She starts browsing the datapads on the shelf.

She’s still looking when Madam Nu shows up. “Can I help you two look for something?”

“Oh! It’s nothing, I’m just trying to find a certain ruling.” Jiorra says and the head librarian asks her a few more questions before reaching a hand out and plucking the right datapad from the shelf. “Oh, thank you.”

“It’s no problem. Why are you two looking for this one?”

“I just need to show Padawan Skywalker here that we don’t kick out padawans who lose their mentor.” Jiorra looks through the datapad and when she finds the right section hands it to Anakin.

Anakin tries vainly to read the difficult text but doesn’t accept help from Jiorra, wanting to confirm it for himself without her interference. When he’s clearly struggling Madam Nu steps back in. So now he’s had it confirmed by two different people and knows where to look it up in writing. He thinks he can really trust Jiorra now.

* * *

“When can I see Master Obi-Wan again?” Anakin asks as they leave the archive.

“As soon as I determine that he’s not a danger to you. Or that training a padawan won’t be harmful to him.”

Anakin huffs. “How long is that going to take?”

“I don’t know. It won’t be too bad. You missed out on growing up in the temple, in a clan. You can get some of that experience during this time. You do like Clan Hawkbat, right?”

“Yeah, they’re fine.” Anakin shrugs. “It’s not the same though.”

“And you have me, I’ll still be coming over every day.” She punctuates this by putting an arm on his shoulder and squeezing.

He leans into the touch. He’s not sure why he’s so upset about not having Obi-Wan anymore but he guesses he can accept Jiorra and Clan Hawkbat as temporary substitutes.

* * *

After dinner, Anakin finds himself crawling around the temple’s maintenance vents, looking for different, more elusive types of droids to nab and open up. Only Jarri was brave enough to follow. The others are with Master Rune, covering for them.

One of the vent openings is to a deserted, dead-end hallway. Anakin peaks through it and sees an older padawan sitting and reading. He stops and motions for Jarri to get closer to him and whispers in his ear. “Do you wanna scare her?”

Jarri grins and whispers excitedly. “Yeah!”

Anakin and Jarri spend the next few minutes making increasingly loud ghost and other “spooky” sounds, including acting out a whole murder scene. They actually stop paying attention to their victim as they get into the act, so much so that when the vent is suddenly ripped open it takes them by surprise. A hand reaches in quickly and grabs Anakin by his robe and hauls him out. Jarri screams and crawls away through the vent as fast as he can.

“Get back here!” Anakin calls after him but it’s too late. He turns to look at the other padawan, a blue twi’lek. She’s older and taller than him, holding him up off the ground by his robes. “Uh.. sorry.” He says lamely as he meets her eyes.

She looks at him sternly before her face cracks and she bursts out laughing. She sets him down, still laughing. Finally she catches her breath. “Your friend ran off fast.”

Anakin sulks. “Yeah...”

“What were you two even doing in there?”

“We were looking for droids to- um...” he suddenly thinks that maybe admitting he was kidnapping droids to take them apart and tape knives to them isn’t the best thing to admit to a stranger.

“I used to crawl through the vents to sneak into the kitchens after hours.” She nods sagely.

“ _You can do that?”_

 _“_ Oh, yeah, I can show you if you want. I could use a snack right now to be honest.”

“I’m Anakin, by the way,” he introduces himself as she crawls into the vent and he follows.

“Aayla.”


	7. Chapter 7

Obi-Wan does not want to go back to see Jiorra the next morning. He feels so tired just thinking about talking about what he went through. Surely it can’t be normal for this to go on every day, right?

“I had a question,” he says as they sit down to begin today’s session

“Yes?”

“Is it… normal for us to be talking everyday? I’m… I’ll be honest, it’s wearing me out.”

“That’s fair,” she begins. “And no, it’s not, but you’re in the middle of a crisis right now. You have some very important issues that need to be addressed as soon as possible. I had an important conversation with Anakin yesterday that’s shed some light but I still have to ensure that you’re only experiencing intrusive thoughts and not a potential predator. There’s also the fact that you told me you engaged in self harming behavior and now can’t stop.”

Obi-Wan sighs, unable to stand having his failings laid out for him like that. “Is there anything I can do to speed this up?”

“That’s not quite how this works, but we can start working on one of those issues now if you’d like.”

“Yes, let’s get it over with.”

“Alright. I need to know more about what triggers the thoughts you have about Anakin and how you respond to them. How do they usually start?”

Obi-Wan knew she was probably going to ask about _that_ but it still felt like a punch to the gut. “Well it… they usually start whenever I’m too close to him, uh, when he’s close enough to reach out and _touch_. The first time it happened was when I had to help him put on his new robes. They’re a little different than what he was wearing before and he needed me to show him how to tie- and then I touched his _skin-!_ ” Obi-Wan cuts off, wringing his hands, he’s curled his legs up underneath him. He wants to feel bad about getting his boots on her couch but he can’t bring himself to unfold them. “I stopped, _right away,_ and locked myself in the fresher. I didn’t- I didn’t do anything more, I promise. It was an accident.”

“What thoughts went through your head exactly?”

Obi-Wan grimaces. “That I could- that I could do anything to him and no one would know. And I could see myself, reaching further into his robe and- I drowned the thoughts out of my head after that- I- I made myself throw up to stop them.”

“We’re gonna put a pin in that response and come back to it later. But these kinds of thoughts always give you distress?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Obi-Wan assures her.

“I think I’m pretty confident saying that these are just intrusive thoughts and I’m not worried for any children in your presence. But I am worried about you. I think the treatment that would best help with this is ERP: Exposure Response Prevention Therapy.”

“And that is…?”

“Exposing yourself to the source of your fear over and over again, but without following it up with your unhealthy coping mechanism. The point is to force your brain to recognize how irrational it is.”

“And how would _that_ work?” Obi-Wan asks, not liking where this is going at all.

“Mostly by noticing children. Your intrusive thoughts are mostly triggered by proximity? Then it might be as simple as sitting next a child-”

“ _ **NO**!_ I can’t- you can’t let me be near them! What if I hurt them?”

“You, Obi-Wan Kenobi, are perfectly in control of your actions, your hands won’t move on their own. And, if you’d let me finish, I would have told you that that would be something we would work up to. We can start with just being in the same room as children and noticing them.”

“This sounds like a terrible plan. You don’t know that I won’t lose control. You shouldn’t trust me,” Obi-Wan all but begs.

“Listen, Obi-Wan, having intrusive thoughts does not make you a bad person. It’s a misfiring in your brain, not a reflection of your character. You suffered an incredibly traumatic and prolonged kind of abuse, it’s only natural that your brain is having a hard time coping with the stress. My job is to help you find healthy ways to do that.”

“And this is the only way?” Obi-Wan asks miserably.

“Maybe not the only way, but it looks like the best way. And like I said, we’ll start slowly. But for now I think it’s time we took out that pin we put in our conversation earlier and talked about the coping strategies you’ve developed on your own. And how they’re shit.”

“I know, it’s not ideal but meditation doesn’t help.” Obi-Wan sighs, shifting uncomfortably.

“I don’t think just meditation is going to help with this,” she says and Obi-Wan can hear Qui-Gon’s disbelief that meditation couldn’t solve anything that was wrong with him. He tries to shove the thought out of his head. “So, you said when you first started throwing up that it was involuntary, which then led to you doing it on purpose to avoid abuse. But then the situation with Anakin became unbearable and it was the only method you had to calm down?”

“I- yes, that sounds about right. It was the only thing I could think of that would stop everything right then, immediately. I always… felt better? After I threw up, whether it was on purpose or not. I try not to, I know it’s bad, but sometimes I just can’t help it.”

“Do you have any other methods to relieve stress?”

“I have a few, it depends. I do find meditation helpful, but only if I have time and only for… things that aren’t immediate. When I can’t sit still and need to move, sparring or practicing lightsaber forms helps. _Alchaka_ as well...”

“Those all sound very good. But is there anything else you do when something is immediately stressing you?”

“Um, uh-” Obi-Wan pauses, wondering if he should tell her that he can’t stop picking at the hair on his arms. That probably counts right? The fact that he doesn’t want to tell her that he picks at his hair and skin until he bleeds is probably a sign that it’s bad and he should tell her. But he also _likes_ doing it and it’s not like it’s hurting him or anything. It’s completely harmless and it helps him calm down when he can’t run to the bathroom and vomit. “No, not really.”

“Okay then,” She says and he gets the feeling she doesn't believe him. “Let’s talk about some alternatives you can try when things get overwhelming. I helped you through your panic attack in our first session with one method. When you start having another, I want you to pick an object and describe five things about how it looks and feels, then pick another object and do the same thing and keep going until you’ve calmed down.”

He nods along, that had really helped him before. He’d just have to remember to do it the next time things got to be too much.

“This next method is a classic.” She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a rubber band and holds it out. “Keep this around your wrist and whenever you feel the urge to throw up or hurt yourself some other way, I want you to snap it.”

Obi-Wan takes the rubber band from her. “Okay...” It doesn't seem entirely useful but he’ll try.

Jiorra finishes off the session with several more methods, including a datapad for him to write in for a few of those.

* * *

Obi-Wan’s days seem to fall into a schedule. Morning meditation, therapy, try to have lunch, work on his soresu form (sometimes with Quinlan and Aayla, sometimes alone), and then dinner with Bant and usually Quinlan.

It occurs to him that Aayla doesn’t trigger his… intrusive thoughts the way Anakin did. Granted, he’s never had to touch Aayla while helping Quinlan teach her, and he’s kept some distance between them. It’s probably worth bringing up in his next session with Jiorra.

In other good news, the anti-nausea medication seems to be helping. He only had one involuntary instance of purging and that was because he tried to force himself to have lunch when he already wasn’t feeling good. Staying with Bant also helps, she’s always around during the evening when he would normally make himself vomit. It’s harder to do when he knows she’s there and will probably hear it. And he certainly doesn't want to deal with that. It also helps because he’s forced to rely on the methods Jiorra taught him to help when things start piling up and his thoughts keep circling back to everything that’s wrong. He’s written several pages in the new datapad and broken a few rubber bands from snapping them too hard.

So of course it’s when things seem to be going well that he runs into Anakin. He’s already been given the all clear for unsupervised contact with him, but he hasn’t been able to bring himself to. He still feels so guilty about basically abandoning his charge. That he’s too fucked up to train his padawan like he should.

Obi-Wan is finishing up assisting Quinlan with Aayla’s training when Anakin finds them. There’s another boy trailing after him. An initiate if his uncut and unbraided hair is anything to go by.

“Anakin! Jarri!” Aayla greets them warmly, falling from her stance.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin suddenly seems hesitant to come forward but the other boy, Jarri, is pushing him closer. The new youngling looks familiar in a way that makes Obi-Wan uneasy.

“Aayla! You didn’t tell me your new friend was Skywalker,” Quinlan says.

“You didn’t ask,” Aayla replies.

Quin snorts and turns to Anakin and his friend. “You guys want to join us for saber practice?”

“ _Yes!!_ ” They both exclaim excitedly.

 _Oh no,_ Obi-Wan thinks but makes sure not to visibly show it. It’s his fault for not telling Quinlan about his… problem with Anakin. And that’s how Anakin and his friend get folded into soresu practice.

Aayla surprises them both by teaching the younger two what she already knows, with he and Quin only interjecting every so often. Obi-Wan makes sure to keep at least an arms length between himself and Anakin. And, by some miracle, it works. He doesn’t have to touch his padawan or get too close to him and focusing on saberwork keeps his mind off more unpleasant things.

“I think that’s about enough for today,” Quinlan announces. “Let’s do some cool down stretches before we hit the fresher. And afterwards we can all go to the cafeteria together and get some dinner, sound good?”

The kids all agree wholeheartedly while Obi-Wan tries to think of an excuse to get out of dinner together.

When they’re about to depart to wash up Anakin grabs his hand. “I really missed you,” he says quietly.

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” Obi-Wan says lamely, trying to school his face into looking calm and not like he’s panicking inside. He manages to get his hand back and practically flees from Anakin.

He’s still debating whether or not to just skip the dinner by the time he’s clean. But the memory of the hopeful look on Anakin’s young face makes him feel guilty. This is _his_ problem, why should Anakin suffer just because he’s damaged? His heart is pounding in his chest as he joins the others heading to the cafeteria.

Anakin insists on sitting next to him and Obi-Wan can’t refuse him. Dinner is spent mostly pushing his food around, afraid that eating will upset his stomach and he can’t afford to run out of the dinning hall to vomit. He falls back on snapping the rubber band around his wrist. Quinlan seems to sense that something is up and happily leads the conversation that Obi-Wan can just barely pay attention to. It gives him some time to calm himself down. He tries to examine a few objects, reciting to himself what they look like in his head.

Eventually, his heart slows down, his stomach settles enough so he can eat a few bites, and Anakin’s presence at his side is less alarming. Not wholly, but enough to pay attention to the conversation. The kids are telling them about how they met, he just catches the end where Aayla showed Anakin how to sneak into the kitchens after hours and they brought back snacks for the creche clan that Anakin has been spending time with. Obi-Wan thinks back fondly of when he and Quin used to sneak around causing mischief, and then he thinks about how quickly he stopped after he became Qui-Gon’s padawan…

Obi-Wan shakes his head to clear the thought and focuses on Jarri, who’s telling them about the triumphant heroes’ return to the creche. It’s his clan Anakin’s been made an unofficial part of. (And here, Obi-Wan feels guilty again that he hasn’t been keeping abreast of what Anakin’s been up to and who he’s been around.) Jarri is about Anakin’s age with strawberry blonde hair and startling blue eyes. He can’t quite put his finger on why the boy disquiets him so.

When they finish their meal they end up walking to the creche to drop off Anakin and Jarri.

They’re greeted by Crèchemaster Rune and Obi-Wan startles at what the Crèchemaster calls the boy.

“I thought his name was Jarri?” He asks after the kids have been pulled inside by their other friends.

“What?” The Crèchemaster looks momentarily confused, but then answers. “That’s just his nickname, his proper name is Jarik.”

Obi-Wan thanks the Crèchemaster and leaves in a daze. Quinlan says goodbye as he and Aayla head back to their own apartment leaving Obi-Wan to stumble back to Bant’s apartment on his own.

Inside he stands there numbly until Bant comes up to him and cautiously asks him what’s wrong. Obi-Wan bursts into tears.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to take another moment to thank my Beta, Fey, bc this chapter REALLY needed your help, thank you for making sense of it OTL

Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell Bant what was wrong. He’d been inconsolable and had cried himself to sleep. This morning he’s just felt numb. He sits across from Jiorra like he usually does and tries to get his sluggish brain to think of the best way to tell her what happened.

“I have something important to tell you.” _Just…. Get it over with,_ he tells himself firmly. He’s faced worse than this before, he’s already admitted to what Qui-Gon had done to him, and this was, in some ways, just an extension of that. It shouldn’t be so hard. But it is _._

Jiorra looks at him expectantly.

“I’ve never… I’ve never told anyone, but that’s not- of course I’ve never told anyone. If I never said anything about all the other stuff, why would I have told anyone about this?” She still hasn’t said anything so he continues. “Qui-Gon got me pregnant when I was 16 and made me carry it to term.” He can hear Jiorra’s intake of breath. “I just… we brought him back to the temple. Anakin is friends with him.”

“That’s… oh by the Force, is it little Jarri? He looks-” She cuts off, probably thinking better of vocalizing the comparison.

Obi-Wan nods. “You know, I named him Jarik because- because Qui-Gon was about to name him and I didn’t want to let him have that.” Obi-Wan looks down at his hands, fiddling with the rubber band on his wrist. “When we brought him back to hand over, Qui-Gon just claimed he was an orphan we were handed. He was about to tell them some name, and I couldn’t- I couldn’t stand the thought of him getting a claim over it. I wanted to show Qui-Gon that he didn’t own that baby and he certainly didn’t own me. So I just blurted out the first name I could think of. It was the name of one of the healers that had helped me. Qui-Gon had to take me to a hospital to have a c-section.”

Jiorra is silent for a while until she mutters, voice full of derision. “What an absolute bastard.”

“He really was.” He’s never said it aloud before, and it’s surprising how easily it comes out now.

“Do you know why he made you keep it?”

Obi-Wan shrugs. “I’m not really sure why Qui-Gon did anything. But it gave me a good excuse to not have sex with him. When I was really pregnant he didn’t make me do much of anything. He just liked-” Obi-Wan shudders at the memory. “He liked petting my stomach when I was showing, acting like we were this happy couple about to start a family or something. I did my best to annoy him however I could. When it was about to become obvious I was pregnant he took me away on a long term mission and kept me locked up, hidden away in the ship. But before I left Quinlan gave me a bunch of holodisks with music. The most teenage, angsty, rebel-against-authority music he could find when I asked for something to annoy my Master. Qui-Gon couldn’t say anything when I blasted it through the whole ship, no matter how much he hated it.” Obi-Wan smiles sadly at the memory, it may have been a small victory but it was a victory nonetheless, and Qui-Gon tried not to show it but it had driven him mad.

“Well that’s something,” Jiorra says. “Did this change your dynamic permanently?”

“Yes, I had… proof now. With the baby in the temple. I started talking back more, or telling him ‘not tonight’ if he wanted sex. If he ever pushed too hard and I’d had enough? I could… just tell someone to run the youngling’s DNA. It would prove that Qui-Gon had sex with his padawan and it would get him kicked out. It was mutually assured destruction, but at least if I couldn’t take it anymore I could take him out as well.”

“What do you mean by mutually assured destruction?”

“Well, I’d have to leave the Order too. I couldn't just pull it out and be rid of him, so I had to keep it in reserve.”

“Why would you have to leave the Order?” Jiorra asks and she sounds so confused that Obi-Wan is momentarily as well.

Obi-Wan thinks it’s obvious, but he explains anyway. “If you have sex with your master, you get kicked out.”

“What? No, you aren’t!” Obi-Wan stares up at Jiorra as she continues, “That’s not- no!”

“Yes it is, I’ve seen the documentation. It’s on record. Believe me, I’ve researched this thoroughly. There are several cases of masters being caught sleeping with their padawans and in all cases both parties had to leave the Order.”

“That’s not- that isn’t- that can’t be what happened.” Jiorra seems to be legitimately flustered, and he can’t quite figure out why _this_ of everything he’s told her, is what does it.

“It is.”

Jiorra shakes her head adamantly. “I’m going to have to do more research into this, but that can _not_ be what happened. _No_ Jedi is ejected from the Order for being raped.”

“Not necessarily, and that’s not what I’m even talking about. I knew I couldn’t prove it was rape, I knew Qui-Gon would try and twist the truth and make it look like I seduced him or it was a mutual failing on both our parts, or some other such nonsense.” Obi-Wan rolls his eyes, because he knows how it would have gone had things come to light. Qui-Gon could twist everything, could convince anyone to see his point of view, it was what had made him such a good negotiator.

“You were underage, it would have been statutory rape even if you had said yes. And the Council would have ruled it as such.” Jiorra heaves a pained sigh. “I’m so sorry you thought that would happen. Clearly we failed to protect you.”

Obi-Wan shifts uncomfortably at the thought. “There was nothing you could have done. It was- I brought it on myself.”

“I’ll repeat what I said before: you were a child who could not consent to such things. You did not deserve it anymore than Anakin would have,” she says firmly.

“ _What?_ ” He can’t believe she would bring Anakin into this.

“Anakin was also under the impression that if you were unfit to teach him then he would be sent away. This leaves him in a very vulnerable position, the same one you were in. If you were a predator, or if Qui-Gon was still alive and took him as a padawan-”

“ _I would never have let him-_ ” Obi-Wan interrupts, horrified at the thought.

“-If he had and he gave Anakin the same kind of deal, Anakin would not have brought it on himself,” Jiorra continues regardless.

“Our situations aren’t the same at all,” he insists; Anakin would have been innocent, not like Obi-Wan.

“They’re very similar. You both put your trust in the same man, who was a predator, the only difference is he died before he could do anything to Anakin,” Jiorra says.

The thought of what Qui-Gon could have done to Anakin is enough to make Obi-Wan sick. “I don’t- I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Alright, we can leave this for now.”

* * *

The session finishes after Jiorra has assessed Obi-Wan’s mental state, probably to see if he is going to hurt himself after this. It’s tempting, he just wants something to make him stop thinking the same thoughts over and over… But he’s good and all he does is hide in Bant’s apartment and pick all the scabs off his arms. At least his stomach is feeling fine and he manages to have a few bites of lunch.

He makes sure to avoid running into Quinlan in the training salle and instead works himself to exhaustion alone.

* * *

After her session with Obi-Wan, Jiorra spends most of her day in the archives. Both before her session with Anakin and then again after it was done. She’s made great progress with Anakin, and it’s early but she thinks he’s showing symptoms of ADHD. She makes a note to keep an eye on that.

Madame Nu has been a great help finding reports of Masters abusing their Padawans. Madame Nu was stunned when Jiorra had told her that that was the subject she was researching but had recovered quickly. Jocasta knows that Jiorra is a mind healer and will probably come to her own conclusions, so Jiorra is careful to make it clear that neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin have done anything wrong. If that ends up tarnishing the visage of a dead man in Jocasta's eyes... well, Jiorra can't concern herself with that. With the Archive’s Chief Librarian personally helping her, the research goes quickly.

She finds the same sessions that Obi-Wan must have researched quickly. A general summation of all council sessions are available for the rest of the Order to see, and the rulings of those cases are public.

The details, however, are protected behind high clearance levels. Since these specific cases are currently relevant to her current case, Jocasta is quick to give her access. She can see that Jocasta is concerned, the implications of the cases Jiorra needs to see are terrible, but thankfully Jocasta doesn’t ask, respecting that Jiorra won’t say anything about something confidential.

There are over a dozen separate cases; all of them involving adult Padawans and their Masters in what appeared to be consensual, sexual relationships. All of the Masters had been expelled from the Order, that was clear. And of the most easily accessible cases (the ones that Obi-Wan must have) all the Padawans had also left. Though it’s unclear whether they had been expelled or if they’d left voluntarily. Still, she can see why Obi-Wan would have assumed he’d have to leave the Order himself, it was certainly suspicious looking..

With some more digging, Jocasta pulls up the records of the deliberations. It’s late by then, and Jiorra decides it can wait until tomorrow.

* * *

Her session with Obi-Wan the next day is short. He doesn’t want to talk about anything and refuses to engage in anything in depth, deflecting questions left and right. She decides this is probably a good time to let him know about her plan.

“So, it seems to me, that in order to keep future padawans safe from further abuse, I need to have a meeting with the council about it.”

He looks startled. “What?”

“I wouldn’t bring up anything specific, certainly nothing that could be traced back to you. But the rules are vague as they are. I read through the same case rulings you must have, and while the padawans weren’t expelled,it is suspicious that they all left. I can see how you would draw the conclusion you did. It needs more research and I’m hoping by the end of it to present my findings to the council and demand a written rule that padawans can’t be kicked out for having ‘consensual’ sex with their masters. That it is the master’s responsibility, and the master’s _alone,_ to refuse to have sex with their charge.”

“Would they really- could you really make that a rule?” Obi-Wan seems shocked, but hopeful. Good.

“They might be reluctant to make it a rule officially because they don’t want to admit that even Jedi can be abusers, especially not to their own padawans,” Jiorra admits. “But the fact is they _need_ this rule, and I won’t rest until it’s instated.”

Obi-Wan lets out a breath. “How can I help?”

Jiorra smiles. “Well if you want, we can use your session to head down to the archives and do some more research. Madame Nu was very helpful yesterday, but I could use another pair of eyes.”

He agrees wholeheartedly and it’s good to see him get enthused about something. A project like this will be good for him.

Jocasta is just as helpful as she was yesterday, securing them a private room, and thankfully not asking why Obi-Wan is joining them.

Jiorra is worried that going over the recorded council meetings could trigger Obi-Wan but he appears fine; a bit uncomfortable, but no more than Jocasta is. She does notice him biting his fingernails a few times, and hiding his hands up his sleeves, but he doesn’t appear distressed.

The cases are all different but they all conclude with the council ruling an abuse of power. It didn’t matter if the padawan had insisted they had wanted the relationship or if it had just been a one-off incident. Of the few scenarios that had been revealed through the investigation to be coerced, criminal charges against the master had followed suit. But still, each and every padawan had left the Order. Why?

“I think it’s time we actually listened to the council deliberations. Maybe they’ll shed some light,” Jiorra says as she fires up the holoprojector.

The recordings cover the council’s own private deliberations as well as interviews and testimonies from the victims, the masters under question, and the occasional witnesses. Jiorra watches Obi-Wan just as much as she watches the holos. His face is unreadable, and if she thought his shielding was impeccable before it’s even thicker now. But he sits there stiffly, shoulders square, arms crossed, hands hidden up his sleeves.

“You know, you don’t have to be here if it’s too much,” Jiorra says as kindly as she can when they take a break and Jocasta has left the room.

“No, I should be,” Obi-Wan says firmly. “I _need_ to be.”

“Hmm,” Jiorra begins, not entirely sure if this is a good idea (and isn’t she a terrible mindhealer if she puts her patient in potentially triggering situations like this? But she can’t ignore that there are benefits that Obi-Wan sorely needs). “At least promise me this, you’ll pay more attention to your own state of mind, and leave if it gets to be too much.”

Obi-Wan thinks it over for a moment and then nods solemnly. “I will.”

Jiorra sighs in relief and once Jocasta comes back they begin watching again. Jiorra is both relieved and worried when Obi-wan actually does heed her advice and leaves in the middle of one ruling. She makes to go after him but he waves her off. This trial consisted of a master and padawan pair that confessed to being in love and when the master was kicked out, the padawan decided to leave with her. Once the recording is over Jiorra leaves to go find Obi-Wan. He’s sitting by a window looking out over the city. His arms are crossed like he’s holding himself.

“That recording is finished, if you’re up for the next case.” He actually looks dismayed for a moment, and Jiorra is quick to offer an alternative. “But we can break for lunch now if you’d rather. Get back to this after I’ve had my session with Anakin.”

“That would be… that would work,” Obi-Wan agrees.

“Do you feel up to joining me? Not just for lunch but also for seeing Anakin after?” she clarifies.

“Oh, I don’t- I don’t think I’m ready yet. I also don’t want to run into the possibility of seeing Jarik...”

“That’s understandable.” Jiorra nods. “Go do something relaxing, take care of yourself first. And if you still feel up to this later, I’ll be back here after the dinner hour. Now, would you like to join me for lunch?”

“I think I’ll have to decline; I need some time alone for a while, I think.” Obi-Wan says and Jiorra leaves him to it.


	9. Chapter 9

Obi-Wan feels anxious and uneasy the whole rest of the day. He doesn’t bother trying to eat, his stomach has that sour feeling and he knows it will end badly. But, he wants to stay and make this happen. If he can save some other child what he went through, it would be worth it. He snaps the rubber band around his wrist. He can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if he had died on Naboo and Qui-Gon had been free to take Anakin as his new padawan. He can’t imagine what that would have done to the boy. Anakin didn’t deserve that. Obi-Wan keeps snapping the band. Obi-Wan hadn’t even known Anakin was a slave that Qui-Gon had bought. He should have said something in the Council room that day. It was a miracle everything had worked out as well as it did. The rubber band isn’t helping. He was such a coward, everything could have gone terribly because he hadn’t spoken up. Anakin’s life could have been ruined. Anakin didn’t deserve that, he really, really didn’t. _Not like me._ He snaps at the rubber band around his wrists wondering _why the fuck isn’t it **working** _when it snaps.

Obi-Wan lets out a great shuddering sob and digs his fingers up his sleeves but there’s nothing to pick at. He rubs his face with his hands trying to think of something, _anything_ when his fingers brush his eyebrows. He pinches one hair between this thumb and forefinger and plucks it. It stings and it feels so good he shudders in relief.

* * *

Bant finally gets back to her apartment after a long shift in the Halls of Healing. “I’m back, you here Obi?” She knows he is, she can feel his Force signature, even if it is as impeccably shielded as always. She hears no reply as she puts her things away. “Obi?”

“Uh, I’m right here.” She hears his muffled reply from the refresher. That’s probably not good…

“You alright?”

“Bant I’ve… I’ve done something stupid.”

She stands in front of the fresher door. “What is it?”

Obi-Wan opens the door and lets her see his face.

“What is it?” Oh wait, his face looks- _“What happened to your eyebrows?”_

His face falls even further. “I… I picked them off.”

“’Picked them off’?”

“Yes I… Do that sometimes. Just with my arm hair but I don’t have any left so I thought I could just pick a few and...”

“You picked off both your eyebrows?”

“ _Yes,_ ” He says exasperatedly. “And now I’ve ruined my face and I can’t be seen like this or people will know that there’s something wrong with me!”

“Okay, okay! Calm down,” Bant puts a hand to her mouth, thinking. “We should call Quinlan.”

“I don’t want more people to know about this, Bant!”

“Well I don’t have eyebrows so I don’t know how to fix this!” Bant crosses her arms. “Unless you’ve suddenly come up with something?”

Obi-Wan sighs in defeat. “Alright.”

* * *

To his credit, Quinlan doesn’t laugh out loud when he sees Obi-Wan’s eyebrow-less face. His eyes widen and crinkle like he wants to but then he composes himself.

“Uh, okay, I see what the problem is. How did this… happen?”

“I picked them off,” Obi-Wan answers knowing that’s not very helpful but hoping that Quin won’t ask questions-

“Why?”

Obi-Wan closes his eyes. “Because I pick my hair. Now, can you help or have I humiliated myself in front of you for nothing?”

“I think I can; the Shadows’ disguise department has some fake eyebrows. You just glue them on, they’re made of real hair and everything. I’ll be right back.”

Quinlan comes back with fake eyebrows like he promised, they’re even his natural hair color, or close enough to. Bant stands back and watches in obvious amusement as Quin shows him how to put them on in front of the refresher's mirror. He stands much too close to Obi-Wan, their faces are nearly touching and Quin has his hands on his face and now Obi-Wan’s mind won’t stop thinking about leaning in and kissing him while he’s so close. Obi-Wan has never wanted to kiss Quinlan, he’s never wanted to kiss anyone before. He keeps his breath steady and tries to ignore the images his brain keeps conjuring up. It’s hard to pay attention, even if Quinlan’s instructions are so simple.

When he’s done, Obi-Wan looks into the mirror and sees his face is whole again. The new eyebrows look indistinguishable from his old ones. His shoulders slump in relief. “Oh thank the Force.”

“No need to thank me,” Quinlan says with exaggerated offense. “It’s not like I, you know, _solved your whole problem or anything.”_

“Thank you as well, Quin, you’ve been invaluable. I am forever in your debt,” Obi-Wan says rolling his eyes.

“Show me!” Bant says and Obi-Wan turns so she can see his face. “Oh, you look exactly like you did before.”

“So... are you going to tell us why you picked off your eyebrows?” Subtle as ever, Quin.

“He said he usually picks his arm hair.” Bant crosses her own arms, frowning.

“It... helps me calm down,” is all Obi-Wan can say in his defense. “It’s not like I’m hurting myself. It’s just hair.”

Quinlan is quiet for a moment. “Let me see your arms.”

“Why?” Obi-Wan crosses his arms defensively.

“Why not? If it’s not hurting you then it should just be a hairless arm. Show me. Please.” he adds, looking at Obi-Wan so damned earnestly.

Obi-Wan is stuck; if he refuses then they’ll think he’s hurting himself. But if he shows them he knows they’ll still think he is because, admittedly, it does look bad. Obi-Wan folds. He pushes the sleeve of his outer tunic out of the way and rolls up the sleeve of his under tunic. His arm is hairless, and covered in thin scabs that aren’t good for picking and healing wounds that haven't quite scabbed over but have stopped bleeding, and scars from scabs that he finally let heal.

Nobody says anything and Obi-Wan can’t bear to look up to gauge their reactions. But he can feel them in the Force, their surprise… and disgust. Obi-Wan wastes no time in pulling his sleeve back down. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Well it looks pretty kriffing bad-”

“Have you talked to Jiorra about this?”

“There’s nothing to talk to her about because there’s nothing wrong with it,” Obi-Wan insists.

“If there’s nothing wrong with it, then why are you hiding it?” Bant sounds disappointed.

“Because I knew people would overreact like this.”

“Oh, we’re overreacting? Because your arm is covered in open wounds that you’re doing to yourself?”

“I wouldn’t call them _‘wounds’-_ ”

“Then what would you call them, Obi-Wan?”

“They’re just scabs, nothing to throw a fit about!”

“I can’t believe-”

“Why do you keep doing it?” Bant cuts Quin off.

“It helps me calm down.”

“Didn’t Jiorra give you a bunch of better methods for that?”

“They don’t all work all the time.”

“You need to tell her about this.”

“She doesn’t-”

“If you don’t I will.” Bant is firm in this. “We’re your friends Obi-Wan, we want to help you, but we can’t let you hurt yourself.”

Obi-Wan feels so frustrated, his body quivers with it and he has to take a moment to breathe and calm himself. “This is completely unnecessary.”

“You still have to talk to Jiorra about this,” Bant says. “If you don’t want to talk to us, you have to talk to her.”

Obi-Wan thinks about it for a moment, collecting himself and letting the anger and frustration abate. He can agree, but how will they know he told her? “Fine.”

* * *

They don’t leave him alone the rest of the afternoon. Obi-Wan throws up his dinner despite the anti-nausea meds, but at least his friends don’t judge him for that. But what's worse than that is that they insist on accompanying him to the Archives. When he told them about what he and Jiorra had been up to this morning they had expressed interest in joining and weren’t about to leave Obi-Wan to deal with this kind of work alone when he was so ‘fragile’. Never mind that he wasn’t alone.

“I don’t need babysitting,” Obi-Wan insists as the other two follow him.

“We’re not babysitting, Obi,” Bant says.

“Think of us as more like moral support,” Quinlan adds. Obi-Wan sighs but drops it.

Jiorra is in the same private room as earlier. She and Bant greet each other with a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Obi-Wan told us what you two were up to and we wanted to help out,” Bant explains. “We also wanted to make sure Obi-Wan told you what happened today.”

Jiorra turns to him looking a bit apprehensive. He resists the urge to roll his eyes but admits, “I… pick my hair. I plucked off both my eyebrows today.” He crosses his arms and avoids eye contact.

“That’s not too bad,” Jiorra attempts to comfort him. “Trichotillomania is related to Obsessive-Compulsiveness so it’s not surprising. But you said _both_ your eyebrows…?”

“I got him some fake ones,” Quin explains.

“Those are fake? They look good.”

Obi-Wan goes to laugh and thank her for that and hopefully they can move on and then Bant interrupts. “I think this is a pretty bad case, his arms are covered in scabs.” She motions at him with a ‘ _show her!_ ’ gesture.

He takes a deep breath that is _not_ an agitated sigh but rolls up his sleeve in acquiescence.

“Oh, that’s bad,” Jiorra says.

“Yes, thank you, now can we please get onto what we came here for?” Obi-Wan is getting really sick of this and the agitation is leaking into his voice.

“We’ll talk about this more tomorrow, but yes, let’s get back to business,” Jiorra says.


	10. Chapter 10

Within a few days their little group has collected all the evidence to prove that the Council isn’t addressing the abuse problem as well as they should. Researching has left Obi-Wan more drained than he anticipated. It’s… miserable work but he doesn’t have another episode like he had before. No more plucking hairs or… otherwise harming himself. He’s still not convinced that’s what he was doing, the throwing up he can see people classifying as self harm. But picking at his hair? It was harmless even if it did get a bit unseemly. He’s stopped now and he’s promised Jiorra he won’t start again. He’ll keep that promise but he doesn’t see the problem in the first place.

He’s in another session with Jiorra but he can’t keep his mind on it. He keeps thinking about all the things he’s learned about the padawans that left the order after their Master was caught having sex with them. It’s been eye opening. A few of the padawans had stated that they no longer felt safe in the Order so they had left, or that it no longer fit them after what had happened. A few seemed ashamed or embarrassed. That hurt to watch, even though he was just watching holorecordings.

It had been more relieving to find a few cases where the padawans had been reassigned to different temples, or had taken a leave of absence before coming back. These were cases he had come across before, without the full picture, and had just seen padawans leaving the temple.

Their investigation had also turned up that a Council Member (who was no longer a member thankfully) had coerced the padawan into leaving. That was something Jiorra was going to look into more after. It was what he expected but it left him shaken to see it. He had known that that was what would happen to him if he told anyone, had known for years. But to see it happen to someone who didn’t deserve it? It was awful.

Another padawan had left in protest of their Master being kicked out. They had claimed that the sex had been their idea, not their Master’s, and it was stupid to kick them out. This one had… Obi-Wan had to call it a day after that one. But it still wasn’t the worst.

The worst one was the one that had upset Obi-Wan so much in the beginning. He can’t stand thinking that that padawan would have left the order on their own just to be with the master who-

Obi-Wan shudders in real life. He tries again to focus back on Jiorra. “Sorry, I’m having a hard time focusing right now.”

“I’m not surprised, is there anything specifically that’s keeping your attention?”

“I’m- I keep thinking back to- It’s stupid but I feel like I went through all of it for nothing.” Obi-Wan snaps his rubber band, thoughtlessly.

“You have every right to feel frustrated about what happened, but you aren’t stupid for being manipulated.”

“I wasn’t ‘manipulated’, I made a deal with him-”

“We’ve been over this, he was an adult who had a responsibility not to have sex with children. You were not in any way responsible for him taking advantage of your vulnerability.”

“I-” And then he remembers, _Oh._ “It’s not even like if Qui-Gon being kicked out and me being allowed to stay would have helped. No master wanted to train me so I would have been stuck as a padawan without a Master until I left the Order in shame.”

“No, that wouldn’t have happened,” Jiorra tries to reassure him but he knows better.

“No one wanted me, _no one,”_ he insists. “They shipped me off to the AgriCorps before I had even turned thirteen, that’s how hopeless me finding a Master was. And then the only one that wanted me just wanted someone to fuck.”

“That’s not a reflection on you at all. There were… some problems in the creche, they would have been going on for the whole time you were there until probably a few years after you left. Being forced to leave for the Corps if you hadn’t been picked by a Master by 13 was _never_ supposed to be a hard and fast rule. My Master who trained me spearheaded the investigation into the crèchemasters responsible for the lack of opportunities, the rampant bullying, and pushing the Corps as punishment for ‘unfit’ initiates.” Jiorra even uses air-quotes when she says unfit.

Obi-Wan… feels shaken. His chest is hollow and he feels much too warm. It’s a lot to take in. “That’s- that sounds...” he trails off, unable to finish the sentence, he doesn't know _what_ it sounds like.

“Like it’s too good to be true? Or that it’s unfair and frustrating? I know it’s a lot to handle, especially with all the other revelations you’ve been having. Me and other Mindhealers are still cleaning up this mess as well. A lot of young knights are still suffering the consequences like you are. There’s a group therapy session that meets every other week, there’s no obligation to go but you’re welcome to join.”

“I don’t know about that...”

“You wouldn’t have to talk about anything that happened after becoming a padawan, it’s just about things from the creche. There’s no pressure to join, but I think hearing stories similar to your own would help you understand that you’re not alone and see the patterns in your self condemnation.”

“I’ll think about it but-” he waves his hand dismissively. “I’ve got a lot of other things to worry about already.”

Jiorra nods in understanding.

* * *

Anakin and Jarik showing up during Aayla’s saber practice becomes a habit. Obi-Wan has started to avoid it. He can’t deal with either child right now, it hurts too much. He can also tell Quinlan is upset and confused. He hates to disappoint Quin but he just can’t do it. It doesn’t help that getting so physically close to Quinlan is also starting to trigger certain thoughts as well, thoughts he _doesn’t want._ He’s never thought of his friend that way and it’s distressing.

Obi-Wan meditates and follows Jiorra’s instructions on how to deal with his anxieties but he really just wants to crawl out of his skin and leave his weak flesh behind.

Unfortunately, he can’t avoid Anakin or the others forever.

He’s meditating in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, in an out of the way spot, when Quinlan finds him.

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you,” Quin greets him warmly.

“Really?” Obi-Wan asks like he hasn’t been avoiding him.

“Yeah, you haven’t been around lately, I wanted to ask you to come help me out with Aayla, and your padawan and his little friend.”

“I- Yes, I can help out, of course I can.” Obi-Wan steels himself and follows Quin back to the training sallies.

Obi-Wan curses himself for a fool but does his best to hide his discomfort. He has to be very hands on with Anakin today and he can feel his skin crawling and the effort to keep his thoughts on task gives him a splitting headache.

And then there’s Jarik. The boy is… eager to learn. He listens well and follows instructions to the letter, perfectly behaved. Obi-Wan tries not to hate him. He really does. The child doesn’t deserve his ire, but Obi-Wan is weak, weak, weak. He’s always been full of anger, it’s why no suitable master ever wanted him (except that might not be right?). His worldview has been turned upside down a few too many times lately and he’s too raw and wounded to examine it all. All he knows is that he wants to be as far away from this boy as much as he can. Even spending time with Anakin seems preferable.

When the lesson is over Obi-Wan makes a hasty retreat, purposely not noticing Anakin watching him leave with a hurt expression or Quinlan’s concerned one.

* * *

It’s been simmering in the background, but with their proposal drawn up there’s nothing stopping Obi-Wan and Jiorra from taking Anakin aside and letting him know where his padawanship is heading. It’s after Anakin’s classes, at the time when he has his usual session with Jiorra that the two adults meet him outside his room. Anakin lights up in surprise and excitement when he sees Obi-Wan. It only lasts for a brief moment before he seems to think better of it and closes himself off. He still walks over to them and looks up at Obi-Wan with a tentatively hopeful look on his face.

“It’s good to see you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan greets him and he _means_ it. For everything that’s happened, and everything that hurts when he looks at Anakin, he still wants to be there for him. Just… at a safe distance.

“It’s good to see you too!” Anakin is practically vibrating, trying to contain his excitement. Obi-Wan hopes he doesn't disappoint him too much.

“Let’s head inside, we’ve got some things to talk about,” Jiorra says and Anakin’s face falls just a bit.

The furniture wasn’t built with adults in mind but Obi-Wan and Jiorra still sit in the too small chairs around the small table with Anakin. Obi-Wan looks to Jiorra, hoping she’ll start the conversation but she just looks back at him, smiling pleasantly and leaving it up to him. Great.

“How have your accommodations been?” Obi-Wan almost closes his eyes, _such a stupid question._

“My-?” Anakin seems confused by the new word but appears to figure it out halfway through. “Oh! Um, fine. They’re fine.”

“Good, good.” Obi-Wan pushes through the awkwardness. “We came down here to let you know what’s going to happen from here on out.” Anakin tenses up, his shoulders going tight. “You’re still my Padawan but our relationship began in a rather unusual way. So to help with that, you’re going to be staying in the initiates dorms until you’re around 12 or 13. Crèchemaster Rune has already agreed that you can join in with his clan for all their activities like field trips and such.” Obi-Wan can’t identify the look on Anakin’s face; it’s carefully blank but there is a tightness around his eyes that makes him think Anakin must be anxious.

Jiorra chimes in then: “You didn’t grow up in the Temple and it’s left you at a disadvantage, this will help you integrate and get used to life here. Obi-Wan will still be your mentor and be there to help you through things but he also has to get used to being a Knight now. Sometimes people have to work on themselves before they can help others.” Obi-Wan winces internally. “Luckily, I don’t have anything to work through, so I’ll be here to help you all the time. That’s what growing up in the Temple means; there are always people there to help you when you need it.”

Anakin is silent for a moment and then begins, haltingly “My mom… my mom used to say that the biggest problem in this universe is nobody helps each other.”

“And it’s our job to change that.” Jiorra smiles and puts her hand over his. “It’s a slow job, but we’ll get there.”

“Okay.” Anakin’s voice is small and he looks up at her with his eyes filling with tears. Obi-Wan reaches out to him hesitantly, he needs to comfort Anakin. Anakin takes his extended hand and an invitation and launches himself into Obi-Wan’s lap, hugging him fiercely. Obi-Wan keeps his hands away from the boy, his heart in his throat, and looks to Jiorra for help. She mouths ‘ _you got this_ ’ and gives him a thumbs up. He would give her a different, very rude, gesture back if he wasn’t panicking.

Obi-Wan eventually settles by patting Anakin’s back gingerly. There isn’t anything happening in his head. There’s no untoward thoughts so Obi-Wan settles his arms more securely around his Padawan. He can’t imagine the kind of stress Anakin’s been under with all the uncertainty of his situation. At least he can give him this comfort.

* * *

Later that evening Obi-Wan has dinner with Bant and Quin.

“Big day tomorrow,” Bant says. “Are you ready?”

“Well, today went well, so maybe?” Obi-Wan ventures.

“You’ve got two big things tomorrow, finally moving into your own apartment? That’s gonna be fun,” Quinlan teases.

“Yes well, I suppose it’s time.” Obi-Wan shrugs.

“It’s gonna be fun, we’ll help you move in,” Quin reassures him, grabbing him by the shoulder and shaking him fondly.

“I would have been disappointed if you didn’t,” Obi-Wan says.

Quin stays for a long time after dinner, nearing bed time. “It’s getting late, don’t you have to get back to Aayla?” Obi-Wan asks him.

“Nope, I invited him over for a sleepover.” Bant says.

“Aayla’s old enough to spend a night alone. We’re all gonna cram into one bed like the old days and whisper to each other all night,” Quin explains.

“I hardly think we’ll all fit.” Obi-Wan gives him an amused look, grin tugging at his mouth.

“We just have to curl up tight,” Quin says back, matter of factly.

And they do all fit. It’s tight, and Obi-Wan has to curl up tightly to avoid Bant’s kicking feet, but it’s comfortable. They whisper in the dark to each other about small things; temple gossip, the latest holodramas, and when they should sneak out of the temple for contraband snacks (not that they needed to worry about sneaking out or their favorite junk food being contraband for them anymore). Obi-Wan falls asleep in his corner of the bed, warm and safe and loved.

* * *

Obi-Wan is not formally a part of the presentation to the Council; it would be difficult to explain his involvement in matters so confidential. So he walks with Bant and Jiorra to the Council room and waits behind. Bant and Jiorra have been friends for a while and Bant’s position as a healer both make her a sensible choice. Obi-Wan is relieved but also nervous about not being a part of the meeting. He wants to know what’s going on in there and be able to help. Being stuck out here leaves him so... helpless.

It’s hours until the Council breaks to deliberate. Jiorra and Bant come out looking exhausted but accomplished.

“You don’t have to wait the entire time,” Bant says.

“I don’t mind, gives me time to catch up on some reading.” He holds up his datapad but doesn’t mention that he’s hardly been able to concentrate on it long enough to read anything substantial.

“I think it went well,” Jiorra says, cutting to it. “They were very surprised that this was apparently such a _thing_ that it needed addressing like this. But I just used their blindness to it as proof that the Order needs these protections stated clearly and readily available.”

“Really?” Obi-Wan can’t believe it can be that easy. “Everyone just agreed to it?”

“Well not quite.” Bant frowns.

“There were some naysayers that thought we still don’t need these specific protections and that it ruins the Order’s image to acknowledge these problems.” Jiorra rolls her eyes. “Some of them think the Order is too good to have these problems or that we would catch them easily. They don’t want to listen to the evidence proving them wrong.”

“Do you need someone to testify?” Obi-Wan’s stomach sinks. But he’ll do it, if he has to. If that’s what it takes to protect other padawans from having this happen to them.

“No, no, we’ve got this handled,” Jiorra insists. “I don’t want to put you through that unnecessarily. Those Councilors are in the minority, they’re probably being convinced of it by the others right now.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t feel relieved. Even after the Council calls them back he can feel the fear eating away at him. It sits sour in his stomach as he stares blankly at his datapad, waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

He’s starting to think he shouldn’t have stayed here to wait, he should be out doing things, getting his mind off of it. But Obi-Wan knows that if he was somewhere else his mind would still be here. The anxiety is crawling up his throat, nearly choking him with it. He keeps his hands firmly clenching the datapad and not doing anything they shouldn't. Not tearing open his skin that crawls, or ripping out his hair- and he can _feel_ every individual hair on his head-

He sets his datapad down harshly and starts pacing the hallway. He keeps his hands clenched at his sides. He nearly wears a hole through the floor with his pacing by the time Jiorra and Bant come back out. Bant walks up to him as he hurries back over to them and greets him with a hug.

“Good news!” She whispers excitedly in his ear. Relief washes over Obi-Wan, and he staggers, but Bant is there to hold him up.

“Let’s get out of here before the Council gets out and we can tell you the whole thing. I think you’ll be very pleased.” Jiorra motions for them to follow her.

Obi-Wan scoops up his datapad shakily as he almost stumbles along beside them. He’s relieved, of course he is, but he still feels sick from the day’s anxiety. Bant keeps an arm around Obi-Wan, hand placed comfortingly between his shoulder blades.

“So, it passed,” Jiorra says once they’ve hurried off to Bants apartment. “It’s called ‘The Padawan Protection Act’ here, you can read it.” She hands him her datapad and he reads the text in disbelief.

“ _A master is not to engage in sexual or romantic relations with their padawan under any circumstance. The padawan being of the age of consent or verbally or otherwise giving consent does not excuse the master. Breaches of conduct will result in immediate expulsion from the Order for the Master and, if legally applicable, will result in criminal charges being filed against them. The padawan in question will receive no punishment and will not be expelled.”_

“Every knight or master currently teaching a padawan will be required to sign it as will every one that takes a padawan in the future,” Jiorra continues. “Padawans will also get their own copy stating their rights and protections. I’ll also have to organize something with whoever handles our sexual education courses and help them add this into the curriculum.”

Obi-Wan can’t believe it. He sits down hard on the couch and stares at the datapad. “We did it?” He whispers.

“Yes!” Bant says excitedly. “We pulled it off.”

Obi-Wan lets his head fall into his hands, it’s almost too much. He heaves a shuddering breath. Bant is back to rubbing his back and Jiorra has sat down on his other side.

“How are you feeling?” Bant asks softly.

“I-I-” Obi-Wan struggles to get the words out. “This- this isn’t going to happen to anyone else.”

“No, it’s not,” Jiorra agrees firmly.

“ _Oh thank the Force,”_ Obi-Wan gasps and breaks apart.

* * *

Later, it feels like much later, Obi-Wan feels tired and worn out, like his mind has been scoured by a particularly coarse brush. But he feels clean. He thinks he might even feel good tomorrow after he’s slept and had time for his headache to settle.

Quinlan drops by to help with the move. Jiorra decides to help as well. It’s easy moving his things from Bant’s apartment into his new one. The difficult part is getting his things from the old apartment. No one wants him to have to step foot in there and so they collect everything and bring it back. Obi-Wan hardly has to do anything as the other three sort out his things and find everything a place. He sits back in a bit of a daze while they work, too numb to feel bad about hardly helping.

It’s late by the time they finish. Jiorra hugs him before she goes and tells him that she’s proud of him. He turns back to the other two.

“Will you stay tonight?” He asks tentatively.

“I was hoping you would ask,” Bant says cheerfully.

“You couldn’t kick me out if you tried.” Quin grins.

Obi-Wan can feel his own grin on his face, small and tired but there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> art by [minnabird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minnabird)
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone for sticking through and reading this!! I'm really glad I was able to complete this and make it a solid stand alone work despite this hopefully being the first installment of a series (I'm keeping my fingers crossed lol). I hope you enjoyed it!!


End file.
